


Prophecy Unknown

by dragyn42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-08-11
Updated: 2011-10-01
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 53,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18831943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragyn42/pseuds/dragyn42
Summary: At the end of Harry's second year, the battle in the Chamber of Secrets didn't end when Harry pierced the diary, it began.  And when it was over, none of the minds and souls of those involved were left undamaged.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this bug to write a bond type story. I got this chapter out of the way, and I don't know if I want to continue. So, here it is for all to read. It hasn't been beta'ed. The reviews will determine if I continue or not. If I do, I may go back over this chapter with a beta. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

_Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap -- the diary._

_For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book._

Harry pierced the diary with the fang, and as the ink bled from the diary, lightning shot up his arm. The lightning pierced his brain, his mind, and his very consciousness, and from it, he could feel hate, anger, frustration, embarrassment, and... love?

He looked at the enraged specter of Tom Riddle, and all the anger at what this shade of Voldemort had done to his friends and his school - the only place that had ever felt like home! - rose up inside him. The anger and embarrassment at what he had been forced to do by this silver-tounged incarnation of hate filled him. He yanked the basilisk fang from the diary, feeling a momentary sense of loss when the fang was separated, and once again plunged it deep into and nearly through the diary, his anger strengthening the blow.

And when the the fang again pierced the diary, the lightning shot up his arm and into his soul. The pain was unbearable, and he knew without a doubt that he was going to die. But he had stopped Voldemort once more — _thrice in a twelve year lifetime isn't too bad,_ he thought — and he hoped beyond hope that he had at least saved Ginny. She hadn't deserved what happened to her. And he couldn't bear the pain that it would cause her family if he had failed. But he wouldn't have to bear it, would he? Because he was dying.

In the single second it took for all of those thoughts to pass through his head, Harry could feel the basilisk venom moving through his body, draining the life from him. The pain that, even now, ripped him to his core and wouldn't relent, ensured that his last moments would not be pleasant. There was a burst of sound that Harry couldn't identify through the sound of his own screams, and then it was over.

Harry looked around. It was dark. There was ground under his feet, but he couldn't see it. There was a breeze blowing, but his clothing was not moving against his skin in response to it. And the pain was gone. The feeling that his very essence was under attack no longer threatened his existence, he felt free, but... trapped. Something was missing.

Self-preservation kicked in and he ran a mental tally of everything he could think of. He ran his hands over his physical attributes — arms, legs, torso, face, hair — and they were all still there. He ran through his memory, and as far as he could tell, his memories were all there. He didn't feel anything had been taken from him, but all the same, something was missing.

Slowly, very slowly, objects became visible in the darkness. Harry took a look at one. It was indescribable, literally. Any attempt he made to define what he saw was useless. They had no shape, no size, no color, but they were there. He stepped toward one and looked. And suddenly he knew, KNEW, how to use the Killing Curse and what it was like. Nothing else came with that horrible knowledge, but it was there, in his head, nonetheless.

He jumped back from whatever it was he was looking at, the knowledge that it imparted to him sickening him. He squeezed his eyes closed trying to get his stomach under control, and when he was able to breath again, opened his eyes. There were hundreds of the indescribable objects around him. They floated at him, catching his attention, he had no choice but to see them. And each on that crossed his line of sight imparted new and even more horrific knowledge. He felt the joy in using Crucio, the power of Imperio. Numerous curses and jinxes for cutting, slicing, bludgeoning, mangling and otherwise hurting and torturing were his for the using, and with each bit of knowledge, there was imparted a feeling of absolute joy born of hated that sickened him further.

Harry tried to get away, but everywhere he turned, objects were there imparting their horrific knowledge. He tried to close his eyes, but that no longer worked, either. The objects were there still, each relaying their potions and spells, enchantments and charms. And with each bit of knowledge, he finally understood what was missing: Love. The knowledge was destroying it from within him. The joy in absolute power, the hatred and contempt the knowledge produced for those around him, they were chiseling the love from his being. Harry held tight to his thoughts of Ron and Hermione, his first and closest friends. He refused to loose what they had given him. He thought of Molly and Arthur Weasley who had shown him the love of the family he was denied for most of his life. He struggled against the encroaching hatred, he ran, using the memories as a shield, but the knowledge still came. And when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, Ginny was there.

“Ginny?” he asked, approaching her cautiously. All his hopes that he had saved her swirling away. _If I had saved her, after all, she wouldn't be here, in this place._ “Ginny?!” he cried, hoping desperately that she wasn't dead like him. If she was, then it had been for nothing, and he was sure the hatred would consume him.

Ginny turned toward him, and his breath caught in his throat. And when she faced him, when he saw her eyes, desperation filled him. Her eyes were empty. Not lifeless like the dead, but empty. There was no thought, no emotion. And as he looked at her, as with the objects around him, he knew. He knew what it was to be Ginny Weasley. Her hopes and dreams growing up, her innocent wonder of all that was around her, her fiery personality and her desires, her mischievous nature encouraged by her brothers, her crush on The-Boy-Who-Lived, her feelings for Ron's best friend, and her loneliness at Hogwarts were all his. What was supposed to be the best time of her life, the beginning of her magical education, new friends and experiences, everything that Harry had, she didn't.

She had been ridiculed for her hand-me-down clothes and supplies. She had been ignored as yet-another-Weasley. She was ignored by her own brothers! And she had escaped into the comfort the journal had provided. The friendship Tom offered her helped drive away the loneliness that was taking over her life. But then Tom took over her life. She now _remembered_ everything he had her do. And she no longer wanted to live with with. She was going away, and Harry knew with a certainty that this is what was giving Tom his strength.

“Ginny, please! I didn't die just so you could give up!” He walked up to her, her flaming red hair enhancing the emptyness in her flat, brown eyes. Harry grabbed Ginny's shoulders and stared into her eyes. He whispered through the hopelessness that was overwhelming him, “Ginny, it's Harry. You know, Harry Potter. Ginny, I want you to listen. You need to hear me. Ginny, I. Don't. Blame. You.”

Harry felt it inside of him when the life returned to Ginny. She looked at him, the horror she felt at all that she had done relayed itself without even a thought. In that instant, Harry knew that everything that had been imparted to him by the objects had been imparted to her as well, and she had been forced to act on them. She didn't care what anyone else thought, if they blamed her or hated her, if they pitied her or, however unlikely, loved her. She couldn't live with what she had been given, with what she had done. Her love had been all but removed from her, and she wanted to give up.

“No.” It was one word. It was the only word Harry could think of. With that one word, he declared his defiance of all that was Tom Riddle. He declared his refusal to give up. He announced with every fiber of what was left of his being that he would not deny himself love. He demanded to the girl under his hands that she resist with everything she was. And with that one word, her eyes, with the tiny spark of life that had returned to them, met his, and there was no longer anything missing.

Ginny collapsed into his arms crying. She wailed at the unfairness of everything that had happened to her, she screeched at the evil of Tom Riddle that had invaded her and raped her mind. She wept, tears falling, and through it all, Harry held her. He felt everything she was working through, and he held her. His own tears falling at all she had been through, and he held her. And when it was over, and she backed away, and he released his hold on her, she was still there.

She looked at him in shock and surprise, and he felt it in him. She was still there, _inside_ him. The hole that had been carved into his soul was filled with Ginny. And the love that had been ripped from her over the past year, was now Harry. They were part of each other, and they were each other's love. They completed each other with what had been taken from them.

“How are you here?!” a voice sneered. Harry instantly recognized the voice, Ginny had been listening to it for a long time, now. “This is my place! _My existence!_ You don't belong here. But you do, my dear Ginny, who doesn't belong anywhere else, you belong to _me_!”

“Belong to you? I... I can't.” The words were a wonder to her. She knew it was true, and for the first time in several months, she was free of him.

“NO!” He grabbed for her so quickly, she didn't have the time to react, but his hand went right through her. He stared in shock, unbelieving, that here, in his place, anyone could defy him. “You are MINE!!!”

He grabbed at her once more, but this time, Harry took her hand, and as Tom's hand passed through her body, they were erased. Little fragments of light and color separated from his arms, they fluttered about like paper on the wind, and then faded into nothing. His arms were gone, and it didn't stop there. Like a shredding light, the rest of his body fell away until there was nothing of him left.

The objects that had forced the evil knowledge into Harry followed suit. They, too, faded and disappeared. The darkness that surrounded them fell away until there was only light. Harry and Ginny looked at each other, acknowledging silently that the diary ghost of Tom Riddle was gone. They stepped into each other's embrace, and whether they were dead or alive, it didn't matter, because each one completed the other: they were love, and no longer was anything missing.

* * *

Harry became aware that he was still holding Ginny, and that she was still holding him. There was light, he could tell that even with his eyes closed, but it wasn't the same light from the diary place. He heard someone busily shuffling around, and curiosity finally won over. He opened his eyes and found himself looking at his own red hair. But that was wrong, he was sure he had black hair. It was Ginny's hair, yes, that was it. He was looking at the top of Ginny's head. He felt every part of her body that was in contact with him, her arms around his sides and hands on his back. He hugged her more tightly to himself and felt her respond in kind. But it wasn't a response, per say, she increased the strength of her hug simultaneously with him.

“Ah, I see you are awake,” came Professor Dumbledore's voice from the end of the bed. He didn't want to look. He didn't want to see the disappointment in the headmaster's eyes at all the harm he had brought into the school. The headmaster would expel him for freeing the basilisk. Students were hurt, he wouldn't allow her to stay! He started to shake and felt Ginny shaking as well.

Ginny! She released the basilisk, not him. Right? _Ginny?_

_I don't want to see him. He is going to throw me out. Mum will be devastated._

_So we hide here? Forever?_

Her head moved, tilting upwards to look Harry in the eye. _You'll come with me when he expels me, right?_

_Of course. How could I stay in school if he expels me?_

Nothing of this thought process seemed out of place to either of them, but they were aware that something about it was dissimilar from any conversation they had had before. Nor did either of them even realize that they had never opened their mouths to speak.

“So both of you are awake. Excellent! You had us all quite scared.” They noticed there was nothing accusatory or disappointed in his voice. “Are you ok? Harry?”

“I'm fine,” came both of their responses simultaneously.

“I see, and how about you, Miss Weasley, are you fine as well?”

“Yes,” they responded again.

“Oh, dear. This was most definitely unexpected.” He was quiet for a minute while Harry and Ginny continued gazing into each others eyes, and then continued, “Harry? Ginny? I need you to both look at me, please. Its quite important. You're not in trouble, but I need to see you look at me.”

An unworded thought of consensus flit through Harry's head. He released his hug on Ginny, only to grab her hand as she released him from her own hug. They rolled apart onto their backs and then looked up to face the Headmaster who was indeed sitting at the foot of their bed on a big, purple, fluffy chair that was most out of place in the hospital wing.

They winced, again in tandem, when the vision of the headmaster assaulted them from two sets of eyes. They could make out the individual sights, and they knew from which body each came from. But seeing them together was enough to almost give them a headache, but not quite.

“Most exceptional. Do you realize that the two of you were moving in complete synchronization?” When they stared at him, obviously unsure of what that had to do with anything, he continued, “Well then. Ginny, I'm fairly sure you must be afraid of expulsion. I know I would be if I had released a basilisk into the school. But older and more experienced wizards have been fooled by Tom Riddle, and I do not hold you responsible. Please, will the two of you tell me as much as you can remember of what happened down in the Chamber?”

_Two of us? There are two of us?_

_Yes? Er, no. Wait, yes. I'm Ginny, and you're..._

_Harry. Right. That makes two._

_The Chamber... Tom took me down there..._

_...To hurt the non-pure bloods, by releasing the basilisk. And I came down with_

“Ron!” they yelled in unison. They looked at each other, and slowly, they began to realize what was happening. It wasn't wrong. Of that they were sure. They were them, and that was all to be said about it. But as they became more fully awake, they understood that it wasn't always this way. This was different. They nodded to each other, and Harry continued by himself, “Professor, where is Ron. Is he ok?”

“Yes, yes. Young Mr. Weasley is quite well. And he had quite a story to tell when you all arrived back here last night. Yes, you have been asleep here for over a day,” he clarified at the look of confusion on their faces. “I'm afraid I might know what's going on. I've pieced together parts of the story based on Mr. Weasley's accounting and the artifacts that he brought back. But in order to know for certain, I need to know what happened in the Chamber itself, after you were separated from your brother.”

Dumbledore had worded his last statement carefully. Harry's response to it would help confirm what he thought had happened. And if it was true, he needed to know how it had happened. His story would prove vital for that. As he had expected, Harry noticed nothing wrong with the request.

“I assume Ron told you about Professor Lockhart?”

“Indeed. I must admit my disappointment. The truth was there for anyone to see, but I had been preoccupied with filling the position amongst my other responsibilities.”

“Well then, sir, after I was separated from Ron, I entered the inner chamber and found Ginny on the floor...” Harry spent the next hour relaying the conversation with Riddle, the fight with the basilisk, and a brief recounting of the battle in the diary. They didn't feel the need to explain the knowledge they now knew they still retained. Nor did they describe the way they healed the damage to themselves by filling in the losses they attained. But they told of the environment, the hatred that was the memory of Tom Riddle, and how together, with their friendship and the memory of the love of their friends and family, Riddle was destroyed.

“Sir,” asked Harry. “How am I, are we, here?”

“I believe, Harry, you have your friend to thank for that. The story Mr. Weasley tells is that when he found you, you, Ginny, were unconscious on the ground, your head in Mr. Potter's lap. You, Harry, were unconscious on your side, one hand holding the basilisk fang through the diary, the other reaching down and holding Miss Weasley's hand. Fawkes was standing at your head, singing. I believe he used his song to help in your battle in the diary.

“I'm sure the both of you have more questions, and I would be glad to answer them. But if I may, might I ask you one more question, Harry?” At Harry's nod, he continued, “Why did you write in the diary to begin with?”

“Because I was lonely, sir,” he answered without thinking. It was only then that he and Ginny both gasped, realizing what had happened.

“Truly remarkable. Absolutely astounding,” Dumbledore said. “All of those variables. The possibilites, the precision. To have them all occur. Amazing.”

Harry and Ginny stared in fear at their headmaster. He was mumbling many things to himself that they didn't understand, but there was one thing they did. He knew what was happening.

_What if he tries to..._

_I don't know if we can stop it..._

_But he can't..._

_Can he?..._

“Sir,” started Ginny.

But it was Harry that continued, “You aren't going to...”

“Try to separate us,”

“Are you?”

For the first time, Dumbledore seemed to notice how afraid the two students in front of him were. “Oh, oh no. My dear students, even if I were to try, I doubt I could. I doubt that the combined power of every witch and wizard in Britain could separate the two of you.”

“Then you know what happened to me?” asked Ginny.

“Er, I mean, us?” corrected Harry.

“I'm almost positive. It was a theory of mine when I was much younger. But to be sure, I must ask you something else. You left out part of the story, didn't you? Something in the battle hurt you, both of you. It took something away from you.”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, then back to the headmaster, and nodded.

“Love?”

Another nod.

“Then yes. I know what happened.” He paused for a moment, seemingly to collect his thoughts. “It was before the turn of the century. Grindelwald, much like Tom after him, was experimenting with the power of magic. The control over others that he could take with it. You see, unlike Tom, who I'm sure you now know doesn't even understand love, Grindelwald was perfectly aware of love, and of its power. He was experimenting with ways to crush love in his victims, to drive all hope from them. He never truly succeeded in removing the emotion from his victims, but the results he did manage to achieve were not any less horrific for it.”

Dumbledore paused again, and Harry and Ginny noticed a brief flicker of pain fly across his face. But then he took a few breaths and continued, “He determined that the magic needed to conquer his victims in such a way was prohibitive. There were other, easier ways to exert power.

“While studying the victims of his first experiments, I began to understand how Love Magic, a most ancient branch of magic no longer practiced, works. It was, by the way, Love Magic that your mother unwittingly used to save you, Mr. Potter.

“You see, Love Magic is too unpredictable to be reliable. Our love for someone can change over time, and it will effect the result of whatever spell you are trying to use. The ancient magics are strong, stronger even than what we use today, but they were all just as unreliable. Over the centuries, we have learned that powerful is not always better, and reliability will ensure a fair chance, every time. But I digress.

“In my studies of his victims, and in Love Magics, I determined that it might be possible to join to people who were dedicated enough to each other to offer themselves as a source of the other's capacity to love. It was a theory more than anything. To attempt to prove the theory, even with willing subjects, only to fail, was a horror I would not inflict on anyone.

“But I took my theories and submitted them to the Department of Mysteries, who at the time had a whole sub-department studying the ancient magics of emotion, love in particular. They took my study with appreciation and it was the last I heard of it for several more decades.

“After I defeated Grindelwald, I received a report from the Ministry. It seemed that after much study and calculation, they determined that my theories were viable, but in theory only. There were too many variables, to many emotions, a set of probabilities that bordered on the infinite. Even if it were the only way in which to save someone who had had the emotion of love removed from them — which they assured me was an improbability bordering on the infinite itself — they would not recommend the attempt. It was simply too dangerous. 'A theoretical possibility, but a physically magical impossibility' was their result.”

Harry and Ginny sat there, absorbing everything they had just been told.

_Each one the source of the other's_

_It sounds...._

_Right,_ was the resounding agreement of thought.

“He didn't take it all,” said Ginny.

“Pardon me?” asked Dumbledore.

“He didn't take it all. I still had some love left within me. I wanted to give it up, but it was still here. And Harry didn't want to let go.”

Dumbledore simply stared at them, the characteristic twinkle in his eyes.

“I was so happy to have friends. And a family, even though it wasn't mine, that actually cared for me. After so many years without, it was something I wouldn't give up,” continued Harry.

“So, you see,” explained Ginny, “We had something to hold on to. In the diary, where to see something was to understand it, we looked at each other,”

“And we understood. We each knew what it was to be each other, to need love and understanding in our lives,”

“And we wanted to provide it for each other.”

Harry and Ginny looked once more at each other. They finally understood what it was that happened. But there was one more question, nothing beyond it mattered. Together they asked, “Sir, what does this mean?”

“Well, it might help you to understand a little about bonds, first, to put things in perspective. Love bonds bind individuals in love to each other in life. There are variations, certain advantages to the different bonds — knowing where your partner is, knowing what they are feeling, that type of thing — but the Love Bonds are all spells. Most witches and wizards cast a variation of said bond at their weddings. These variations are called Marriage Bonds.

“The Soul Bonds are a more permanent bond, binding two people together beyond this life. There are spells, of course, that can create such a bond. They are dangerous magics. Often, they involve blood rituals. Then, there are the Soul Bonds that are formed before birth, which are quite rare. Often it is said that they are one soul in two bodies. This is not quite true. It is more like they are two souls who are so compatible, so perfect for each other, they might as well be one soul when joined. Such a bond lasts beyond death. Indeed, when one partner dies, the other is often not much longer in this life.

“What you have, children, is beyond either of those. In your battles, your souls were damaged. Each of you became less than whole. Now, Ginny's soul, having battled Tom over a longer period of time, was damaged first. And I have to assume that the process was started along by some catalyst. Probably the basilisk venom coming into contact with the physical vessel of a spiritual manifestation. But when you agreed, unconditionally, to become what the other needed, you healed each other. Your souls, understand, were not restored, for when a soul — or part of a soul — is lost, it cannot be restored. But you are whole nonetheless. Neither of you is complete by yourselves, you each complete the other. You are each, for lack of a better comparison, two souls in one body, and together you are one being in two bodies. Such an occurrence has never happened before, and I daresay will never happen again.”

“Sir, I think we need to, um”

“What I, we, mean to say, is,”

“I perfectly understand. When you are ready, I will return.” Dumbledore stood and banished his chair. “And so you know, we were able to separate you long enough for your parents to see you without you clinging to each other. They left before you, much to Poppy's dismay, gravitated back together. I will let them know that you awoke, briefly, but are still too weak for visitors.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“No problem at all. Now, I will go look into matters. Perhaps when you awake, I will have more answers for the questions you undoubtedly wish to ask. Don't worry about expulsion, there will be no punishment for what occurred. Sleep well,” he smiled, and quietly exited the hospital wing.

Harry and Ginny once again faced each other, rolling back into the mutual hug they woke up in, and realized how tired they still were.

_Two souls in one body..._

_One entity in two bodies..._

_I'm sorry. I should have see-_

But before the thought was finished , another cut across it, _No! It doesn't matter now. We are who we are. What's done is done. If I have to have anyone supporting my soul, I'm glad its Harry Potter._

_Ginny Weasley, you are beautiful. I am sorry we, um, I didn't notice you before. And I'm glad that you are me, er, I am you, um..._

_We are who we are. I'm glad we're together._

_Together._


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, my old friend,” Dumbledore was addressing one of his oldest living acquaintances in his office. “What do I do, now?”

Fawkes trilled at the headmaster from his perch.

“A bond, however unlikely, I could have dealt with. I might have even been able to use it. The power inherent in one could have been most fortuitous. But this...” The aged headmaster paused and sighed. “Unconditional support. No magic whatsoever, and yet a joining greater than any bond. If Harry is to do what he must, how does she...”

A triumphant warble filled the room. Dumbledore's eyes alighted with understanding, and the warble became a song of hope.

“I see! Amazing. Such a simple answer. Have I been playing these games so long that such simple, natural solutions escape me?”

Fawkes ceased his song and cocked his head, staring at his human friend with a look bordering on exasperation.

“Yes, yes. You are right as always, my friend. I should put more faith in those who will do the doing.”

Fawkes trilled once more, nodded his head once, and then closed his eyes.

Dumbledore stood to retire for the evening when a brown post owl came swooping through the private post entrance window to his office. Any mail delivered through that window was for immediate consideration by the headmaster, and so he sighed once more, taking the letter from the owl, who promptly left through the same window without waiting for any treats or even water. The headmaster pointed his wand at the letter and muttered the charm to release the protections that insured only he could read the letter. He scanned the letter, dropping it into his trash can (which was all too happy to munch on the late night snack) and stared at the sword, fang and diary on his desk.

“It seems the final checkmate for this match is about to be played. I hope Harry will be in position when it does.”

  


* * *

  


_Ginny?_

_Hmm?_

_Awake?_

_Yes, we are._

Two sets of eyes sharing a single bed opened in unison, and two heads adjusted so that their owners could see each others faces, faces that were their own. Once they were sure that everything that had happened had indeed happened, they continued sharing thoughts, thinking in unison, pondering how to handle their newfound unity.

_We should try to act separate_

_But we're not separate, why be what we're not?_

_Yes, this is better_

_Absolutely. You are my love._

_And you mine._

_..._

_Hermione will know, she will figure it out_

_Ron won't,_

_but what about Mum?_

_And Dad? Mum might freak but Dad_

_will help. He always has._

They heard the door open and identified the footsteps as belonging to the headmaster without looking. The union of minds recognized in a offhanded manner that the ability to know footsteps had come from Harry. Having had nothing else to do in their cupboard under the stairs, he learned whose footsteps were whose, and the ability had apparently carried over.

They listened as the headmaster approached, unwilling just yet to look away. They had discovered last time they looked away that two sets of visual input, along with the dual auditory and physical stimuli, was a little disorienting. They were able to handle it by the end, but for right now, it was just easier to look at themselves.

The headmaster had reached the side of the bed, and they could feel him looking at them, but he didn't create his usual comfy chair to sit in. He seemed to be waiting for something, and they realized that he knew they were awake, that they knew he was there, and that he wanted them to look at him.

“It's too much to see right now,” explained Ginny.

“Ah, well then, I guess we'll just take small steps. Hearing and talking is not a problem, I take it?”

“No, sir,” they replied together.

“Very well. So you are aware, I will be in a meeting later today, one I sincerely hope the two of you can attend if possible. If not, I will handle things, but I think things will turn out much differently if you were to be there.” They nodded and he continued, “And now there is another, more immediate question.”

“Who should we tell.” It was not a question.

“You should know, sir,”

“We really don't want to tell anyone.”

“It still scares us...”

“that you know, as irrational as it is.”

“But we know this is something we can't hide.”

“We were two people, and now we're not.”

“So, we've been thinking, sir, and decided we're going to need help. Mum needs to know. We're afraid of how she may react,”

“She's very protective, but still...”

“She needs to know. And Dad will help. He'll know whatever we tell Mum anyway, so he should know.”

“And Hermione.”

Dumbledore wasn't too surprised at the inclusion of Harry's friend, but, “Miss Granger? Why do you feel it necessary to tell her? Not that I will stop you, but I wish to understand. It's the only way I can help.”

“She'll figure it out anyway. I, er, we, um.... drat.” Ginny had started speaking. Because the thoughts came in tandem, the duo required a lot of work on which pronouns were assigned to which speaker at any given time. “Actually, sir. That's exactly why she needs to know.”

Dumbledore nodded while Harry continued, “I can't stop being her friend. And she's too smart not to pick up on all of these slips. Maybe if we could avoid her before next year”

“So we had time to work on it.”

“But we, I, can't. She's one of my best friends, sir. She helped me fight Tom, whether she knows it or not, and I won't avoid her because I, we, whatever, have changed.”

“Yes,” agreed Dumbledore, admiration in his voice. “Yes, she is far too clever not to notice. And with the combined will of the two of you, two of the most stubborn students in this school I might add, I doubt I could keep you from talking to her even if I wanted. Very well, then. And how about your brothers?”

They noticed he didn't clarify whose brothers, for which they were most grateful that he was not trying to separate that which could not be separated. They knew that they would need to learn how to deal eventually, but the summer was approaching, and now wasn't the time.

“I don't know. Ron should probably know. He wouldn't figure it out on his own,”

“But he is my, our, friend,”

“And brother.”

Dumbledore nodded his approval, even though the couple still wasn't looking at him, and asked, “And the twins? Young Mr. Percy?”

_The twins would understand._

_Absolutely, but the pranks, I don't know I could deal with them right now._

_And they wouldn't be able to not prank this._

_Maybe later. And Per-_

_NO! Absolutely not!_

_Not yet. They'll all need to know._

_Probably this summer._

_Yes, later, not now..._

“Not yet, sir. We know they'll all need to know later, but, just,”

“Not yet.”

“Very well. If I may, before I go to gather the requested parties involved, might I recommend two others?” Dumbledore didn't know if they were thinking or just not responding, so he continued, “I won't make you tell them if you don't want, but it would make things easier in the future. It would also help to keep others that you may not want to know from finding out.”

Harry and Ginny nodded together. “Who?”

“Madam Pomfrey should know. She will be your medical provider here in school. If you agree to tell her, we can arrange to have her as your medical care giver outside school as well.”

_I apparently spend as much time here as in the school, and we're following suit._

_If she's going to take care of us,_

_then it's a yes._

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Now, this next suggestion you will probably find harder to understand. It is my opinion that you should tell Professor McGonagall.”

“But...”

“Please hear me out before you make your decision.” Once again, they nodded and he continued, “As much as I want to, my position as Headmaster prevents me from spending as much time with any single student as I might like to. My other responsibilities in the Wizarding world will often pull me away from this school. If something happens to either or both of you, you will need someone who understands and can act on it. As your Head of House, Professor McGonagall has your best interests in mind. As Deputy Headmistress, she will have the authority to act on your behalf should it become necessary.

“One last thing, and if you tell her I said this, I will most vehemently deny it: she is not nearly as stern as she lets on to you students. I think you would find her most generous to your situation.”

Harry and Ginny didn't even form full, coherent thoughts. Their headmaster had made a most convincing argument. There really wasn't anything to think about. So they nodded.

“Well then, I will go gather up the requested parties. I know that at this point it is still difficult to be physically separate, but I will ask that you try. I will explain to everyone before we enter that they are to wait for a complete explanation before reacting to anything they might see, but if we can avoid shocking them too much, it would be most helpful,” and with that he swept from the room.

_Yes, we should try._

Harry and Ginny released their holds on each other, once again immediately and instinctively grabbing for their hands. To prevent the overload of input that occurred last time, Ginny closed her eyes, still completely aware of her surroundings from Harry's sight. As much as they knew they should try and sit separately, they still felt this wasn't the time, so Harry lay on his back while Ginny curled up next to him in the crook of his shoulder, her head on his chest.

They lay like that for quite a few minutes, not thinking, talking was unnecessary, unable to fall back asleep with the worry of the conversation to come. The door opened and Dumbledore quickly, though unhurriedly, made his way to Madam Pomfrey's office. Several seconds later he crossed back out through the double door entrance with the Hogwarts medi-witch in tow. He looked at Harry and said, “We'll be just another minute,” before he shut the doors.

Sure enough, a minute later, the doors opened back up and Harry, and Ginny through Harry, watched the host of people tromp through the doors. Mrs. Weasley took one look at the two of them in bed and the two children could read her face like a book. She seemed to alternate wanting to run to them, hugging them each in turn, Ginny for being well and Harry for saving her. She wanted to yell at the improper display of sleeping together in the hospital. She wanted to rail at any other adult in the area for allowing it to happen. And finally, she worried that its being allowed was indicative of a much larger problem, one she didn't know and didn't know if she could protect her baby from.

Mr. Weasley looked from Harry to Ginny and back again, but even with Ginny's experience, they were unable to tell what he was thinking. Ron had a huge grin on his face, obviously happy that they were both alive, but his eyes portrayed a confusion bordering on anger that his best friend would be lying with his little sister in such a way. And Hermione was the easiest to read. Harry and Ginny could see the wheels turning in her head, obviously aware something was wrong from what the headmaster had said, and she was trying to put together the puzzle even though she didn't have all the pieces yet.

Dumbledore summoned the available chairs from around the hospital wing room and arranged them around the bed before waving his wand again, his own comfy chair appearing at the head of the bed, near Harry's head, facing the others.

“Please, everyone, sit down. We have much to discuss.”

The group sat in the chairs, Molly by Ginny's head, Arthur next to her. Ron sat next to him with Hermione on the other side. Poppy sat next, and McGonagall transfigured her chair to match the headmaster's before taking her own seat.

“The children have asked that I explain as much as I can before we start asking questions of them. I would request that you wait until our little tale is done before acting out in anyway that we might later regret.” He looked around at those present, waiting for each of them to nod their agreement in turn. His eyes lingered slightly longer on Molly Weasley, even after she nodded her assent, before winking at Harry.

“Excellent. Now, from what we have put together, it seems that an old relic of a former student of Hogwarts, a Tom Riddle, had somehow made its way into the possession of young Ginny, here. While this may seem innocuous, as indeed Ginny herself thought, Tom Marvolo Riddle was what he called himself then; Now-a-days, he prefers the nom-de-guerre Lord Voldemort.”

Expectedly, everyone around the bed gasped in shock. “I wish for you to understand that, just as you did not know, neither did Ginny, nor was there any way she could have known. Her decision to place her trust in a boy as charming as Riddle, while questionable, could not at the time be seen as wrong. There is no blame to be placed on her. You need to understand that, and even more so, she needs to understand it.”

Together, Harry and Ginny shuddered, the conflicting thoughts clashing with each other in their unified minds.

_But it was our fault, we let him-_

_No! He fooled us, as he's fooled others._

_No one would have been hurt!_

_He would found some way to hurt them._

_As Harry, I had the diary. I knew it was_ wrong _somehow, I should have destroyed it then._

_Harry didn't know!_

_Neither did Ginny, until it was too late._

No one noticed their shudder, but their reflexive tightening onto each other did catch Hermione's attention. She had assumed Ginny was asleep, but the movement seemed to indicate otherwise. She noticed the momentary look of thoughtfulness and guilt in Harry's face before the headmaster started speaking again, so she returned her attention to the explanation.

“Tom, through this diary, befriended Ginny, tricking her into trusting him, and when she finally realized what was happening, it was too late. By then, he had found a way to possess her for longer and longer periods of time. Using his memories from his time here at school, he opened the Chamber of Secrets — yes, Lord Voldemort is indeed the heir of Salazar Slytherin — and released a basilisk to hunt down those students in school who were not of pure blood.”

Professors McGonagall and Pomfrey both hissed at the mention of the basilisk. They both obviously remembered the previous time the creature had been released.

“It appears Tom's ultimate plan was to regain his life, the life of his seventeen year old self left behind in a diary, by draining the life of Miss Weasley. It is our luck that young Harry here was able to save her before that happened. Unfortunately, that brings us to our current predicament.” He paused for a moment, trying to determine the best way to proceed, when a thought occurred to him. “Molly?”

Molly Weasley, startled away from looking at her apparently sleeping daughter, looked up, “Yes?”

“Molly, do you remember about four months before you graduated, you approached me with a question. You wished to know about certain spells that might have had an impact on your future.”

The Weasley matriarch stole a glance at her husband and she turned as red as her Weasley hair. “I asked about several types of spells if I remember correctly, Albus. But I assume you aren't referring to the possibility of a stronger contraception charm.”

The women around the bed chuckled while Ron simply looked horrified.

“You are correct, my dear. I am referring to the other spells.”

“I asked about bonding spells. I knew I was going to marry Arthur when we graduated, and I wanted our wedding to tie us closer than we already were.” She smiled at her husband who gave a serene smile in return. “I don't know if I ever did thank you.”

“The looks on your faces when you exchanged vows and triggered the bond was all the thanks that I needed, Molly. Nonetheless, you are most certainly welcome. But now I must ask you to continue, what do you remember of our talks?”

“We discussed the Heart Bonds, the various wedding and life bond variations, and the Soul Bonds and how to recognize and trigger them. I remember at the time being slightly disappointed that I wasn't soul bonded with my intended. But it all worked out in the end.”

“Indeed it did, Molly, indeed it did. But I must ask one more thing, do you remember the other possibility I mentioned to you?”

“You referred to some old theory work you had done on souls and Love magic. You told me about your results, and how the Department of Mysteries agreed with you that the results were impossib...” At that moment, her eyes went wide, her face paled to a ghastly shade of white, and she stared in horror at her daughter and Harry. Everyone else was aware that something of significance had just been imparted, and they waited with baited breath for the secret to be revealed.

Dumbledore spoke so quietly that it seemed the silence wasn't even broken. “I never said impossible, Molly. I said the probability bordered mathematically at zero. I am sorry.”

“Don't be sorry! There is nothing wrong with us!” Ginny snarled.

Everyone jumped; they had all assumed she had been asleep. Molly reached over and ran her fingers through her daughter's hair and saw Harry's eyes droop in contentment. She then stroked the side of Harry's face and heard them both sigh. Finally, understanding what Albus had been telling her, she hugged her daughter tightly, doing her best to not separate her from the boy she was lying on. “Oh! My baby, my baby,” she cried.

Reasonably sure that he had avoid a most angry outburst; he proceeded to relate to everyone else present the theories he had developed. He described the ideas behind them, and the consequences if they failed. He told of the results the Unspeakables had reached that had mirrored his own.

Hermione's eyes were wide with wonder, her mind instantly understanding what had happened, if not how, and eagerly absorbed as much information as she could about everything involved. Ron was Ron, sure that this was important, and that it had something to do with his best friend and sister, but he hadn't yet put together what. The rest of those present were understanding of what he was telling them, but disbelieving that something so improbable could possibly occur.

Dumbledore finished by telling them all of the battle inside the diary. The mental battle for the souls of those involved that had left none unharmed. He confirmed that the shade of Tom Riddle was indeed gone, but that by unconditional and unspoken agreement, the two survivors were now irrevocably joined together, possibly for eternity.

“You should know, Harry and Ginny didn't have to tell anyone. They wanted their family and friends to know, however, because they knew they would need help. At this point, all I can ask is that you provide it for them. This is as new to them as it is to you. They will need help learning to function as individuals again. Well, at least to act as individuals, they will never be truly apart.”

He waited while everyone absorbed what they had been told. Madam Pomfrey nodded, understanding why she was included, “Of course, Albus. Anything they need.”

Professor McGonagall stared at the students in the bed, _her_ students, and imagined the horrors that they would have had to face that would have resulted in the rending of their very souls. She did something she rarely did and began to shed tears, nodding her agreement to help in any way she could.

Molly and Arthur Weasley didn't need to acknowledge anything. Ginny was their daughter, there was never any question they would help her. They would have helped Harry anyway, but now that he was bound to their daughter, their resolve hardened that much further. Molly continued to hug her daughter, as did Harry with his left arm. His right he placed onto Molly's shoulder, where Arthur then covered it with his own hand.

Ron thought along the same lines as his parents. He knew that something like this would be hard. And while he might not even be able to imagine the horrors they had faced, he summed it up out loud in two words, “They're family.” His parents both nodded and he added his hand to the joining of Arthur and Harry's.

Hermione watched the whole situation, tears threatening to spill. Her academic mind, however, was still working overtime, trying to draw the larger picture. “Ginny? Why are your eyes closed if you are awake?”

Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling, admiring the student witch's ability to ask such a simple question that cut to the heart of the matter. “Yes, why don't you two tell us why her eyes are closed?”

_It's our show now._

“It's too hard to see,” they responded through Ginny.

Hermione nodded, it made perfect sense. Ron, however, wasn't as understanding. “Of course it's hard to see, your eyes are closed!”

“Ron!” yelled Hermione.

“What?” asked a confused Ron. “How can she see at all if her eyes are closed, of course it would be difficult?”

Hermione huffed in response, trying to come up with an explanation. Professor McGonagall smiled through her own tears. She had, of course, understood their response just as well as Hermione. But if their friends could carry on like this, like _normal_ , even in these circumstances, young Harry and Ginny would be fine.

Hermione had apparently decided how to portray the answer to her friend. “Ron, has Ginny opened her eyes at all?”

“Not that I've noticed, but that doesn't mean she didn't,” he replied defensively.

“True, but it's a start. Ginny? What am I wearing?”

_Clever._

Harry looked at Hermione and Ginny responded without opening her eyes, “A brown sweater with a single yellow stripe across your chest and blue jeans.”

Ron squinted, looked at his sister's face, trying to determine if her eyes were at all open, even a little. “She still could have seen before when I wasn't looking,” he gruffed.

“Ginny,” Hermione started again, “how many fingers is Ron holding up?”

Ron immediately caught on and held his hand to his side where he figured she couldn't see it even if her eyes were open. Harry looked at Ron's hand and Ginny said, “Three, by his leg.”

Ron sucked in a breath and exclaimed, “Bloody hell!”

“Ronald!!” came the simultaneous admonitions of his mother, Hermione, and Professor McGonagall.

Ron grinned sheepishly, and then, to the surprise of everyone, said, “Apparently they aren't the only ones who can think together.”

There was an ever so brief moment of silence in response, and then everyone laughed, the seriousness of the meeting broken.

“I must go and take care of some things. As I have told Harry and Ginny here, I have a meeting later today that I must make ready for. There are other things that must also be readied. Molly, Arthur, I know you wish to spend time with your daughter, but you can see she is well, in the presence of friends, and I will need your help preparing for several possible eventualities. Please?”

Harry and Ginny waited for their mum to protest, but were surprised when she briefly hugged Ginny even tighter, and then stood up and said through her tears, “Certainly, Albus, anything to help.”

She turned to hug Ron, then walked around the bed and hugged Harry. Arthur also bent down to hug his daughter, but included Harry at the same time. He and his wife then followed the headmaster, who had just banished his conjured chair, out of the hospital wing.

Professor McGonagall stood up, reversed the transfiguration on her chair, and looked Harry in the eye. “If you, either of you or both of you, need _any_ thing, you let me know. I will look for a way to make sure you can contact me even when you are away from here.”

Harry smiled, not breaking eye contact, and nodded, feeling Ginny mirror his nod on his chest. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, I meant it when I said anything. No one should have to face that.” She held her eye contact a moment longer, and then departed the wing herself.

_She knows._

_Or she suspects._

_Either way._

Lastly, Madam Pomfrey stood up. She sent the unused chairs back to their proper locations and turned to her patients. “I will have some food sent up, I imagine you are hungry.” This statement was met with simultaneous rumblings of two stomachs. “Next year will be most interesting. If anything is wrong, let me know. I'll be in my office for now.”

With that, she retired to her office leaving the four students alone.

“Ginny?” asked Ron. “I think I realize that talking to Harry _is_ talking to you, but I'm not quite ready for that, yet. I really want to ask you a couple questions.”

Harry closed his eyes and Ginny opened hers, shifting her head to look down the bed towards her sitting brother. Her eyes met his and she waited. Between both Harry and Ginny, they had lived with Ron for ten years and been his best friend for two; they could read him like a book. He was feeling guilty over something. They were pretty sure they knew what, but they also knew he needed to be the one to ask it.

“Was.... What I mean to say, is, will...” He stumbled a few times, but then he caught the swing of it, “Ginny, you are my sister and I'll always love you, you know that, right?” Ginny and Harry both nodded, which disconcerted Ron a little bit. “You were my closest friend for ten years, Ginny, but then I came to school. It wasn't until I saw the words on the wall, and heard the professors say your name, that I realized that I had been ignoring you for nearly two years.”

Ron stopped and noticed that Ginny was tearing, which of course meant Harry was, too. He glanced briefly at Hermione and realized that she was silently crying. “I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm really, truly sorry. And even if you weren't now a part of my newest, best friend, I would still make this promise. I'm not going to ignore you again, Ginny, ever.”

Hermione leaned over Ginny and hugged her hard enough to rival Molly, and still crying, said “I'm sorry, too, Ginny. I don't have any brothers or sisters, and I didn't even think about us taking Ron away from you. I'd never want to hurt you, Ginny.”

They hugged her back, and Hermione apologized several more times through her tears. When she wound down after a minute or so, she sat back and smiled at them.

Before another crying session could start, Ron yelled out, “OK! Enough of the mushy stuff. Where's the food?!”

Harry and Ginny cracked up, and even Hermione's face broke into a grin. As if on cue, large trays of food and juice appeared on the bedside tables on either side of the magically widened bed. Ron grabbed a plate of his own food and started to dig in. Hermione immediately realized the predicament eating would pose for Harry and Ginny, though she wasn't sure if they were aware of it yet. So, wanting to make good on her apology, she carefully put together a plate of bacon and sausage, making sure there was extra food on it, and placed it on Harry's stomach.

Harry, with his eyes still closed, grabbed the offered fork, speared a sausage and brought it up to Ginny's mouth. She ate the offered sausage, suddenly confused as to why she couldn't taste it. Hermione's giggle forced them to realize what had just happened, that it was Harry who wasn't tasting, even though he knew what she was tasting.

“You knew that was going to happen!” they accused her through Harry, Ginny's mouth still full of sausage.

“I figured it might. Watching the two of you through Professor Dumbledore's explanation, I realized you really do both control both of your bodies. Everything you did was in tandem.”

“When we woke up, it took a comment from the headmaster for us to realize that we were two different people. You say we both control both bodies, but that's not quite right.” The words were Ginny's, she had finally swallowed her food. “I'm, we're, well, not really sure how else to put it. We wanted to eat, I saw the fork and grabbed it with the closest hand and then put the food in the closest mouth.”

“You really need to work on your pronouns,” commented Hermione.

“Yeah, we know,” said Harry. “We knew you would figure out something was wrong unless we... I avoided you,”

“And I didn't want to do that,” finished Ginny.

“Wow,” admired Ron, who was now refilling his plate with another helping of food. “If you can stop stumbling over who you are when you speak, you could give Fred and George a run for their money.”

When they all finished snickering, Hermione held another fork close to Ginny's free hand. Understanding and grateful, they grabbed the second fork. After a seconds pause, they tried to get food onto both forks, but ran into another snag when Harry's reached the plate first. Harry and Ginny both growled in frustration, Hermione looking on, trying to figure out how to help.

“Ok, so you're trying to move normally to get the job done, but that's not working. Given the position you're lying in, you can obviously move in a, um, not together way. How did you do that?” she inquired.

_Don't know._

_One at a time?_

_Yes, one at time. We'll need to do more-_

_Dumbledore said..._

_Small steps. Yeah._

They nodded at Hermione, and then Harry finished putting food on his fork and then into his mouth. While he was chewing, they did the same with Ginny's fork. Moving her fork was a little harder since Harry was chewing, and swallowing, but they managed admirably.

“Thanks,” Harry said while Ginny was swallowing. “This is probably going to be harder than we thought.”

“Why don't you finish eating. I think there's something else you need to work on if you're going to leave here.”

She reached towards the end-table by her and took a plate and some food for herself. She started eating without further explanation, so Harry and Ginny continued to eat in their alternating manner. When they had each finished their food, Ron having been through three helpings, and their juice, which Hermione had to once again help Harry and Ginny with, Hermione stood and disappeared into Madam Pomfrey's office.

“What do you think she wants?” asked Ron.

“Not sure. She said it was important,”

“Something we would need to leave.”

Ron really had no problem following their speech, he had, after all, lived with the twins his whole life. “It'd be nice if she would tell us what she was doing. It does affect you, after all.”

“We don't mind. Besides, we probably wouldn't understand it anyway.”

Ron thought about that for a minute, and decided they were probably right. But just as he was about to respond, Hermione reappeared with Madam Pomfrey in tow. The school medi-witch stood at the foot of the bed with Hermione standing just behind her and to the side. She critically eyed her patients, obviously trying to decide something.

“I know you said it was difficult before, but please both of you open your eyes and look at me.”

Harry opened his eyes and they both winced, taking a second to process the second input. Once the threat of headache faded away, they trained their vision on Madam Pomfrey, who had been evaluating the whole process.

“Mmmmhmm. Yes, I see what you mean, Ms. Granger. Mr. Potter, please sit up on the side of the bed.”

Harry started to sit up and swing his legs over the side, until they realized Ginny was doing it, too.

_One at a time._

_Small steps._

They tried again, and this time, they managed only Harry sitting up. But as he turned to the side of the bed, he swayed a little and Ginny closed her eyes. Once they were only seeing one thing again, Harry stopped swaying and finished sitting up.

_So that's what she was doing._

_Right as usual, wasn't she._

A very Ginny-like growl of frustration sounded quite humorous coming from Harry's throat, especially echoed as it was from Ginny. Ron started laughing and Harry looked over at him, a pained expression on his face.

“Sorry, mate,” apologized Ron, not sounding too sorry at all, and still grinning.

Madam Pomfrey finally looked away from her patients to Hermione, and said, “Your plan is as good as any I can think of. This will probably take them all summer. Since you're their friend, why don't you proceed and I'll be here... just in case.”

She stepped away from the bed crossing her arms, looking for all she was like a prison guard. Hermione then had Ginny sit up next to Harry and open her eyes.

“Ok, guys. This may be uncomfortable, but I need to see this first. Can you please stop holding your hands?”

Harry and Ginny both shuddered, the idea seemed just so _wrong_. But they knew their friend was right, they couldn't spend the rest of their lives holding hands, as comfortable as it was. And so, they closed their eyes, took a deep breath, and on the count of three, they go their hands.

The world didn't stop. They released the breaths they were holding and they were, as far as they could tell, still alive together where it mattered.

_It feels kind of like the battle._

_In the diary, when I lost-_

“Ok guys, stop thinking and start talking. We can't help you unless we know what's going on,” admonished Hermione.

“You're right,”

“Sorry,” they responded, opening their eyes.

“We were noticing that apart, it's kind of like,”

“It was in the diary. We can feel the loss,”

“Like it was in there. But this time, nothing is actually missing.”

“We're both still here.”

Madam Pomfrey looked instantly concerned when they mentioned that anything was like it was in their battle, but Hermione didn't seem as worried. Hermione still maintained her appearance of solving a puzzle, and asked for more clues, “So it hurts?”

“No!”

“Nothing could hurt like that.”

“ _Nothing,_ ” they vehemently confirmed in unison.

“This is merely,”

“Uncomfortable. But nothing we can't put up with.”

Hermione nodded, “Good. Now the next step. Ginny, please hop off the bed.”

They took a second to make sure it was only Ginny, and then she hopped off the bed. They waited for the moment of disorientation, but it never came.

_I think we're just getting used to it._

They nodded to themselves and looked at Hermione for the next step. At this point, they knew what it was going to be, but at the same time, they wouldn't try to outguess their friend.

“Ok, now, I want Ginny to walk away from the bed. Go slowly,” she warned, and then looked at Ron. “Ron, walk with her, just in case.”

Ginny made her way across the room with no problems, Ron at her shoulder the whole way.

“Excellent. Does it feel any different being further apart?” Hermione inquired.

“Not at all.”

“Still uncomfortable.”

“Alright,” said Hermione, satisfied. “Then for the next few minutes, we should get you guys used to walking. It's probably the most important thing right now.”

They spent the next hour, as opposed to minutes, working on walking in various combinations. They had Ginny walk with Harry sitting, standing, talking, and anything else that didn't involve his moving excessively. They then reversed the roles and did the same thing with Harry walking.

When they got to trying both of them walking, however, they ran into some more snags. They stumbled and fell several times, finally discovering that they were having trouble compensating for their different leg lengths, heights, center of balances and the like. It took them several minutes to work it out and be able to walk without falling. But Hermione noticed the next problem right off.

“Hmm, it's the same problem as when you were eating.”

Harry, Ginny, Ron and even Madam Pomfrey all looked at her in confusion. Madam Pomfrey expressed her confusion, “I thought they were doing quite well there at the end.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. They were walking without falling down and everything. But that's not what I meant. They can do different things: one can chew while the others grabs food, one can walk while the other talks, that kind of thing. And they can do the same thing together: we've seen them walk in unison, talk in unison, and move in unison.

“The problem is, they can't do the same thing, um, not together. They couldn't eat unless they alternated tasks. I doubt they could walk in different directions right now, much less have one walk up the stairs while the other runs across the castle, which they will need to do by next year.”

At this point, Madam Pomfrey understood. While she was a top-rate medi-witch who could fix any minor — and a fair amount of major — maladies with spells and the correct potions, this was outside her experience. She had a feeling, however, that Hermione was still working on it. She was proven correct a second later when the witch turned to her friends who were now standing next to their bed.

“Ok, I want to try something. Harry, I want you to rub your stomach with your right hand and, at the same time, pat your head with your left.”

Harry and Ginny both gave her a confused look, but tried it anyway. Harry had a few false starts, and Ginny's arms twitched in correspondence with Harry's motions, but he finally was able to do it.

“Great, you can stop now. Ginny, I want you to do the same thing, but swap hands Use your left hand for your stomach and your right for your head.”

Madam Pomfrey was impressed. It took even longer for Ginny to accomplish the task, her hands kept wanting to rub and pat the wrong way, obviously in memory of what Harry had just done. Once she started, however, Harry was the one twitching his arms.

“Excellent, you can stop. Now for the fun part.” Harry and Ginny gave her a concerned look while the medi-witch just grinned, abandoning her usual stern countenance, happy to see what was about to happen. “I want you both to repeat what you just did, same arms and everything, at the same time.”

Even Ron was now sitting on the edge of his chair. It took nearly a full minute for Harry and Ginny to get their arms in the right positions. They kept switching their arms to match the other. Once they were in the right position, however, things fell apart completely. As Harry tried to rub his stomach, Ginny tried to rub her head. And when they tried to force her other hand to rub her own stomach instead of patting, Harry ended up smacking his own face and they both toppled backwards onto the bed.

Ron was laughing so hard he fell out of his chair. Harry and Ginny both sat back up after sorting out whose limbs were whose and glared at Ron who was now literally rolling on the floor, laughing. They looked over at Hermione, who grinned sheepishly at them, and after another moment, they realized what had just happened and they started laughing as well.

Hermione looked over at their medical caretaker and said, “Thanks, Madam Pomfrey. I think we're pretty much done for now.”

“Not a problem at all, dear. That was possibly one of the most amusing therapy sessions I have ever seen. You seem to have a wonderful grasp of the problems and solutions. You might want to think of a career in Magical Post-Traumatic Therapy.” Hermione's grin slipped into shock and she stared at the medi-witch. “Give it some thought, at any rate. You have plenty of time.”

Hermione murmured a 'thank you' while Madam Pomfrey smiled at them all one last time, restored her face to its usual serious look, and walked off back to her office. She looked back at her friends, Harry and Ginny grinning at her from the bed while Ron, now back in his chair, continued to chortle.

“Ok, guys, I think we've discovered your first therapeutic exercise. You should work on that, you don't have to be standing by the way, until you can actually do it.” They nodded at her, and then yawned in unison. “Well, you have been working fairly hard for a while now. Why don't you take a nap? It'll be lunch soon, Ron and I will head down and let everyone know you're ok. We'll also try and bring back some food for you.”

They nodded at her and worked at lying back down on the bed in their mutually hugging position. Hermione smiled at them, waiting for Ron, who was giving them both an odd look. He finally looked over at Hermione and they made their way toward the double doors. But just before they made it out into the rest of the castle, Harry and Ginny hear Ron mutter to their friend, “This going to take a while to get used to. Seeing them like that.”

“It's going to take a while for them, too. Remember that.”

“I will,” was the last thing Harry and Ginny heard from the pair before the doors to the Hospital Wing closed.

Harry and Ginny closed their eyes.

_This is going to be hard._

_They'll be there to help._

_Is it worth it, though?_

_Yes. If we could survive_ that _, we can survive this._

_We'll have ourselves to help._

_Yes._

And that was their last thought as they drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thanks to everyone for the happy reviews. It's for you that I have continued. Well... you and the fact that Harry and Ginny wouldn't shut up. They apparently like their new state of being and insist on telling me what happens. I can't guarantee a timetable, but I guess as long as they're yelling in my head, you get to follow along.
> 
> Also, I wanted to thank some people, most of whom I don't even know if they're reading this story. Sovran, for writing one of my favorite stories on this site, a wonderful bond fiction called Meaning of One. For those who have not read it, go do so now, it's great.
> 
> And Melindaleo, who was the first author I read that proved to me that you didn't need to be JKR to write a perfect story in her world.
> 
> Lastly, JKR, who brought into being the rich world of Harry Potter and lets us all play in it.


	3. Chapter 3

The smell of food slowly broke through the haze of sleep. They heard Ron and Hermione whispering, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Deciding that between the food and the sounds of their friends they weren't getting back to sleep, they opened Ginny's eyes and looked at the source of the whispered conversation.

“Oh! Sorry guys. We didn't wake you, did we?” asked Hermione.

“Not really,” said Harry, even though it was Ginny looking at them. “It was the food more than anything.”

“Okay, then,” said Hermione.

Ron grabbed a couple of sandwiches from just beyond Ginny's field of vision and said, “Here. We brought these. Figured they might be easier than forks and plates right now.”

Ginny murmured their thanks and the two of them worked their way into sitting positions. Ron handed them each their sandwiches and they devoured them in tandem.

“That was much easier,”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” replied Ron. “But if you two feel up to it, we have a request from Dumbledore.”

“Oh?” asked Harry and Ginny together.

“Well,” said Hermione archly, “only if we can get you two to act somewhat separate.”

Harry and Ginny grinned, “Sorry, its harder when we first wake up.”

“Even after the food.”

Hermione nodded and continued, “The headmaster asked that if you were okay with it, would you head to his office. He has a meeting that he really wants you there for.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it earlier. Did he tell you who it was with?”

“No,” said Ron. “Just that he wanted you guys there if possible.”

“Oh. Well, I guess if we need to be there,”

“We should get dressed.”

“I don't think hospital gowns are going to go over well.”

Hermione eyed them critically, grinned and said, “No, probably not. That's why we brought you these.”

She and Ron reached down under their chairs and pulled out their school robes and other various necessary clothing items. “We'll leave these here for you and go wait outside. And if I can suggest...” She made sure they were still paying attention to her, “One at a time might be faster?”

Harry and Ginny smiled and nodded at her, but Ron started sputtering, “Wait, we'll wait outside? Leaving them together?! They'll... He'll be able... She might...”

The other three turned their stares on him, Harry and Ginny's confused, Hermione's exasperated.

“Ron!” she admonished.

“Oh, right, same person.” He looked at them, still obviously uncomfortable, and said “Sorry, guys.”

“It's alright. We didn't even know what you were talking about until now.”

“No worries.”

Ron mumbled something else unintelligible, eyed Harry and then Ginny, and quickly hurried his way out the double doors. Hermione looked at them, smiled apologetically, and then followed Ron out with a quick comment, “We'll be waiting.”

_One at a time would be easier._

_Ginny first._

Reluctantly, they stopped holding hands, which had remained in contact even while they were eating their sandwiches. Ginny carefully swung her legs off the bed while they made sure Harry didn't do the same thing. When they were sure that she could move and Harry would stay put, she stood up and started undressing.

Suddenly, as she turned towards the bed to grab the clothes Hermione had brought for her, an odd compulsion to see herself came over them. At the thought, she suddenly saw herself, got dizzy, and blushed extravagantly. She quickly closed her eyes and grabbed the side of the bed before she fell over.

_I think that was Harry's fault._

_But we already know what we're each like._

_We know, but we don't_ know _._

_Right, Ginny knows what Harry does, but she never knew before,_

_and the same for Harry._

They spent a few moments looking at Ginny through Harry. There was a feeling of familiarity that was obviously from what had been Ginny. Even so, it was still new because it wasn't a mirror. They moved her left arm and it was her left arm they saw move, not a mirror version of it.

But beyond the familiarity, there was newness. Looking at a naked Ginny, their stomachs fluttered, they continued to blush, and.... something else.

_Oh._

_It's normal. Fred, George, Charlie and Bill all talked about it._

_Yeah. But it never happened to Harry._

_They said it happens to all boys eventually._

_It feels..._

_weird. Yeah, but_

_Good._

They shifted Harry's hips to relieve a certain pressure that was unfamiliar to both of them.

_Definitely odd._

_We should finish_

_getting dressed._

Several memories passed through their heads of conversations and talks that Ginny had overheard growing up in a house of all boys. They both blushed even further, the feelings of both Harry and Ginny embarrassed now that they started to understand the context. They did their best to push the thoughts out of their mind.

Their embarrassment, however, fled quickly when other thoughts barged into their consciousness. Thoughts of things they didn't want to understand, but did. Knowledge of physical acts with which they could take pleasure, forcibly from others, stampeded through their memories. Ginny and Harry both yelled out, Ginny collapsing onto the floor.

Madam Pomfrey came running out of her office to see Ginny, naked and curled on the floor next to her bed, her hand reaching up towards Harry. Harry was curled up on the bed, crying, his hand grasping at the other end of the bed, obviously trying to capture his other half's. Years of man-handling unruly and uncooperative patients had left the Hogwarts medi-witch with a physical strength that most students did ascribe to her. She immediately bent down and hoisted Ginny to the bed, heedless of her nakedness.

The instant that Ginny was put on the bed, she moved towards her other half with a force that even Madam Pomfrey was unable to stop and they clung together like their life depended on it.

Realizing that they were clearly upset, she placed her hand on Ginny's bare shoulder and, in a manner rarely heard by her patients, softly said, “There, it's okay, now. It will be okay.”

The two of them could not hear her attempts to calm them, they could barely even feel her hand on their shoulder, but it was enough to make them aware of the effort. In the meantime, they worked to drive the sickening thoughts from their mind. They searched for happy memories and feelings that could help, but Ginny's most recent memories were clouded and Harry had precious few to begin with.

They opened in their eyes in frustration, and just as in the diary, they understood. They _were_ now each others happiness. They were love. Just as the knowledge had previously ground away their own abilities to love, it could not do the same again without killing one of them, first. They stared into each others eyes, their own eyes, and felt each other in their special places of happiness in their souls. They were safe with each other, he couldn't hurt them like that again.

Madam Pomfrey could feel the change where her hand touched Ginny's shoulder. She watched in amazement as they healed each other, something she would have previously said impossible. The instant calm that followed the delirious panic was a visible, almost palpable, thing.

“Are you children okay?”

They stared at each other for a while longer, reveling in the feeling of pure bliss that came from their joining. Unsure if something was happening, but unwilling to interrupt them as it was obvious they were no longer in a state of panic, she waited, and when she noticed them blink, she asked again, “Is everything okay, now?”

“Yes. Sorry, Madam Pomfrey.”

“It was just a flashback. Things we...”

“It was just a flashback. We panicked.”

She was aware they were holding something back, but any experienced Healer knew that patients weren't asked to reveal traumatic events before they were ready. It was one reason she often kept friends and family away from those in her care.

“Very well, then. Are you well enough now to head to your meeting? Or shall I send word that you are otherwise indisposed?”

_Are we okay now? We feel better._

_Yeah, we're okay. Dumbledore_

_wanted us there. We should go._

“We're fine, Madam Pomfrey.”

The Hogwarts Healer sniffed. Although the words came from Ginny, she had heard them often enough from her counterpart's mouth.

“My guess is you are not fine. But, as there is nothing physically wrong with you, perhaps a trip out of here and a bit of normalcy will help the rest along.” She stared at them for a few more seconds, waiting to see if the Ginny part of her patients would reveal anything else. She knew that Harry would not. When nothing was forthcoming, she nodded, “Very well. Finish getting dressed, and let me know when you leave.”

The matron turned and left without waiting for their response, something that as Harry, they knew was perfectly normal, and she disappeared once more into her office.

_Well, we learned how to keep the knowledge from overwhelming us._

_That's a good thing._

_But we need to be near_

_each other. We're not going to be far anytime soon._

_True..._

_And the... nudity._

_We need to know. Let's continue as we were,_

_and let each one of us see other. Any..._

_Physical?_

_Yeah. Any reactions, we'll deal with them._

Carefully, as the sudden need for each other seemed to have made it a little more difficult to move separately, Ginny climbed off the bed and stood in front of Harry. They looked at her once more as Harry, and the physical response was similar. This time they didn't push the thoughts and feelings aside, preventing the other thoughts from coming through.

Once they were satisfied, Ginny put on her clothes, and then sat down in the chair one of their friends had left next to the bed. Then, Harry got off the bed and slowly removed his own clothes. Their balance was recovering from their little episode, but it still wasn't yet back to the only slightly awkward state it was beforehand.

Harry's physical response had disappeared while they concentrated on keeping him upright, and now he stood in front of Ginny. They were having difficulty reconciling their thoughts on their otherwise private parts. Each of them thought they felt normal, while at the same time, they felt different, odd.

_It's no different than when we had to figure out our centers of balance._

_I guess, even that still feels odd, though._

_But it's getting better._

_And so will this._

They then realized what they had spent the last several minutes thinking so intently about, and despite what they intended, their natural reactions took over and they both blushed. They snickered at themselves and, deciding not to waste anymore time on something they had all summer to get used to, got Harry dressed.

Ginny stood up and, after trying several times to walk again, they managed to make their way towards the door. They were just getting ready to call back to Madam Pomfrey when one of the double-door's opened a crack and Hermione's voice came through.

“Aren't you ready yet?”

“Yeah, Hermione. We're walking towards the door, now. It was just a bit harder to dress than we thought it would be.”

The door opened and Hermione and Ron were waiting outside. “Okay, let's go, then. I think Professor Dumbledore wanted you there as soon as possible.”

Harry and Ginny turned their heads together, they didn't want to waste anymore time trying to do it separately, and noticed that Madam Pomfrey was at the door to her office, she had heard the question and their response. From the look in her eyes, they knew she wouldn't mention what had occurred. They nodded to her and made their way out of the Hospital Wing to their friends.

Hermione took a look at Harry and Ginny, her ever present awareness of clues making itself known again. She looked back and forth between them watching them walk, and studying them when they stopped walking.

“Are you sure you guys are up for this? You look a bit pale. Is everything alright? We don't have to do this, you know. It's a long walk there and...”

“Hermione!” Harry and Ginny yelled together, causing her to stop her continuous barrage of questions and statements. This was the intended result and they continued separately, “We're fine.”

“Really.”

“Let's just go so we aren't too late to”

“the headmaster's meeting.”

“Okay, but for the record,” she said, “if you have to speak in the meeting, you might want to make sure only one of you does the speaking.”

Harry and Ginny stared at her blankly.

“Oh, seriously now! Ron said it before, you two speak like the twins.”

Harry and Ginny continued staring at her.

_I guess we do._

_When one of us needs to stop,_

_we continue anyway!_

_Probably the same way our thoughts go._

_Makes sense, I guess._

_Think before we speak?_

_We sound like Mum._

“Okay, we think we have it.”

“It's gonna take some concentration, but we think we can do it.”

“Er, right,” replied Hermione, not stating the obvious.

“Maybe they won't have to say anything in this meeting,” snickered Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and looked back at Harry and Ginny. “Well, there's not much to be done for it now. You're going to need to work on that, too, over the summer. I think I should work on a list. Let's see, hmmm: walking, talking, pronouns, moving-”

“Hermione!” all three friends yelled at once, ceasing her list.

“Hermione,” continued Harry and Ginny,

“Didn't you say Professor Dumbledore”

“wanted us there as soon as possible?”

“Oh, yes. Sorry about that.”

The foursome continued through the hallway, Hermione and Ron unobtrusively flanking the hand holding pair. When the reached the steps, Harry and Ginny started to descend them without a second thought. Unfortunately, they weren't ready for steps yet, and they immediately stumbled and keeled forward, about to take dual headers down the stone staircase. Luckily for them, Hermione had warned Ron to watch for this and they each grabbed on of the pair, Hermione snagging Harry's elbow while Ron slung his arm around his sister's waist.

Harry and Ginny were breathing heavily and looking around bewildered as they slowly realized what happened.

“Careful, guys,” warned Ron.

Harry and Ginny nodded to him and slowly caught their breath as they tightened their grips on each others' hands, which had not let go in the fall, and they stood up straight on the top step below the landing. Hermione and Ron each let go, but kept close by in case they needed to rescue them again.

Harry and Ginny looked down at the next step and carefully stepped down, wobbling a little, but keeping their balance this time. They stood fully on the step, and started to step down again. They wobbled again, a bit more than previously, which caused Hermione and Ron to reach for them, but they didn't fall, and once again ended standing on the next step.

“This is going to take forever,” mumbled Ron.

“Ron! This is something they need to work on.”

“I know, I know.”

“No, Hermione,”

“He's right. We may need to work on it,”

“But now is not the time. We need to get to Dumbledore's office.”

With that, Harry sat down and Ginny descended the stairs at a much more normal pace.

_We're apart, can we act separate?_

_We can try._

“Hurry up you guys!” yelled Ginny from the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey, some of us just got out of the hospital!” yelled back Harry.

Hermione stared incredulously at Harry, and then Ginny, and then Harry again. “You... You guys... just. How did...?”

Harry and Ginny broke out laughing and had Harry explain. “Sorry, Hermione. I, er, we just wanted to see if we could do that. It was actually really weird, like I was arguing with myself, which we guess we were. Arguing with ourself, that is.”

“Hurry up!” yelled Ginny, again.

“See?” asked Harry.

Hermione looked at Harry even more intensely, and then said, “You guy should work on that, too. We should add it to the list.”

Harry, and Ginny from the bottom of the stairs, rolled their eyes and Ron, who had been watching curiously, not entirely following what had happened, started laughing. “Come on guys,” he said. “We need to get to Dumbledore's.”

And so, they made their way through the castle, taking the stairs one person at a time when they needed to, and eventually found themselves in front of the stone gargoyle that protected the entrance to the Headmaster's Office.

“Lemon Drop,” said Harry and Ginny together, but nothing happened.

“Lemon Drop?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah, it was what McGonagall said to make it open before.”

“Well it looks like the password has been changed,” commented Ron.

“And Professor Dumbledore didn't tell us a password,” complained Hermione.

While the four students studied the gargoyle, attempting to figure out what to do next, it suddenly leapt aside and the wall parted, revealing the moving spiral staircase that had amazed Harry last time he was here. Harry and Ginny lead the way, stepping onto the staircase, Ron and Hermione following behind. They rode the stone escalator to the top, and when they got there, they noticed the doors to the office were slightly open, as if someone forgot to close them the whole way.

There was a meeting already going on behind the doors. When Ginny looked through, she and Harry saw Professor Dumbledore sitting comfortably behind his desk, conversing with a tall, thin wizard standing in front of the desk, his back to the door. All Harry and Ginny could make out were his black robes and long, pale, almost silvery hair.

_Malfoy!_

Dumbledore made brief eye contact with Ginny, but otherwise didn't acknowledge that he knew they were there, so they waited, listening through the open door.

The tall wizard was currently speaking to Dumbledore. “So!” he said “You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts.”

“Well, you see, Lucius,” said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, “the other eleven governors contacted me yesterday. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too... Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place.”

There was a moment of silence, during which they heard someone's breath hitch from somewhere else in the office. The long haired wizard looked to the side, confirming that there were other people present in the room that they were unable to see. He glared disdainfully and turned back to the headmaster.

“So — have you stopped the attacks yet?” he sneered. “Have you caught the culprit?”

“We have,” said Dumbledore, with a smile.

“Well?” said Mr. Malfoy sharply. “Who is it?”

“The same person as last time, Lucius,” said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. Ah, and here they are. Come in students, come in.”

As the headmaster beckoned with his hand to the door, the four students made their way into the office, Ginny leading the way. Harry and Ginny stalked right up to Lucius Malfoy, glaring back at his sneering face. While they kept Ginny's gaze locked on Malfoy's, Harry looked about the room. They saw the sword, the diary, and the fang on the Headmaster's desk. They saw Ginny's Mum and Dad sitting off to the Headmaster's right. And standing off to Harry's own right, cowering behind Malfoy, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

The elf was holding a dirty rag, looking frightenedly back at Harry. He seemed to become even more scared when he saw Ginny glaring up at his master, and he appeared to try and sink into the floor. But then he looked again at Harry, and then Ginny again, his eye flying repeatedly back and forth, as if he were watching a tennis match. Given what Harry had thought of the elf's eyes since they had met, the irony was not lost on them.

_Maybe he knows?_

_Or not. Maybe he just knows that there's..._

_Something. Just not what it is._

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, for escorting your classmates up here.” He glanced apologetically at them and continued, “But now, I must ask you to leave. As exams have been canceled, and I daresay Miss Granger has been cooped up for quite a while, might I suggest a bit of time outdoors?”

Ron carefully helped Ginny over to their parents, figuring that it would look the brotherly thing to do. After all, they wanted to keep the appearance that nothing was different with his best friend and his sister. Hermione briefly and gently squeezed Harry's shoulder, an offer of support for both of them, and then made her way with Ron back out of the office, the doors closing by themselves after them.

“Such touching concern for your students. So, Headmaster,” Lucius said, sneering the title, “If she is the culprit, why is she not in custody?”

“As I stated, Lucius, it is because she was not acting of her own accord. She was being controlled, by means of this diary.”

He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby.

The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

“I see...” said Mr. Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.

“A clever plan,” said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. “Because if Harry here” — Mr. Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look — “and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why — Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will...”

Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly mask like.

“And imagine,” Dumbledore went on, “what might have happened then... The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and — killing Muggle-borns... Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise...”

Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak.

“Very fortunate,” he said stiffly.

And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.

And they suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.

“Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?” asked Harry.

Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.

“How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?” he said.

“Because you gave it to m... her,” said Harry. “In Flourish and Blotts.”

From across the room, by her parents, Ginny continued, “You picked up my old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?”

He saw Mr. Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench.

“Prove it,” he hissed.

“Oh, no one will be able to do that,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you...”

Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf.

“We're going, Dobby!”

As they left, Harry and Ginny looked at themselves across the office.

_We should help._

_Why? He hurt us._

_He was trying to help._

_Maybe, if we can..._

“Professor,” they started at once, “can we borrow the diary?”

“Certainly,” he answered.

After Harry grabbed the book, Ginny sat on her father's lap, who was quite confused, and started to pull of her shoe. Professor Dumbledore figured it out, though, and interrupted her.

“Perhaps this would be faster?” He opened a drawer behind his desk and pulled out a fluffy, woolen sock which he handed to Harry.

Harry ran to the door and waited for Ginny to follow. While she stood up, he placed the sock in the diary. He opened the door and held it open while Ginny ran through and down the stairs. Harry then followed her down the stairs, hearing vaguely behind him, “You never know when you need a good pair of socks. You can never have too many, can you?”

Together, they walked quickly down the hallway, chasing after Lucius Malfoy. They saw his hair and cloak disappear around the corner in front of them, and they could hear Dobby's whimpers, but they were unable to increase their pace without falling down. Instead, they started calling after him.

“Mr. Malfoy!”

“Mr. Malfoy! You forgot something!”

“It's important! Mr. Malfoy!!”

As they reached the corner, Lucius Malfoy was striding back around it agitatedly and nearly ran them over. Harry and Ginny flinched backwards and almost fell over from the sudden movement, but managed not to.

“What?” snapped Malfoy, irritation apparent on his face.

“You forgot this,” said Harry, handing the tattered diary back to the Malfoy patriarch.

“I did no such thing,” he sneered.

“Then you purposefully left it in the cauldron,” stated Ginny.

They could see his jaw clenching, his face starting to redden, and finally his arm shot out and snatched the diary from Harry's outstretched arm. He looked at the sock hanging from inside the diary and grabbed it, tossing it over his shoulder disdainfully.

“Your parents were meddlesome fools, too, Potter. You will meet the same, sticky end.”

They boldly met his gaze, and then he turned to Ginny.

“And you blood traitors will get what's coming to you. Mark my words, you will wish you _had_ died down there. Dobby, come!”

He turned sharply, his robes billowing and snapping around behind him, and started marching off, but quickly realized his house elf wasn't following him. He stopped, and without turning back around, announced his orders again, clearly expecting instant compliance.

“Dobby, come!”

But instead of the patter of elfin footsteps, he heard in reply a tremulous voice, “A sock.”

“What are you talking about?” demanded Malfoy as he whipped back around to face his elf.

“A sock,” said Dobby, holding up the sock that his master had tossed over his shoulder. The shoulder that his elf was standing behind, “Master gave Dobby a sock. Dobby is... Free!”

Whatever control Malfoy had maintained over his temper shattered at his realization, and he quickly drew his wand, pointing it at Harry.

“You lost me my servant!”

His proclamation was followed by a loud crack which sent Malfoy flying backwards and into the wall.

“You shall not harm Harry Potter!” declared Dobby, who was now standing guard in front of both Ginny and Harry, each of whom had drawn their wands. They held Harry's in his left hand and Ginny's in her right, their other hands still clasping each other.

Lucius Malfoy stood back up, rage filling his eyes, and fired three stunning spells in rapid succession. Harry and Ginny were unprepared for the onslaught, their only experience with Wizard Dueling having been Harry's from the dueling club.

As the red spells hurtled towards them, they panicked, and in that moment, they were unable to shut out the knowledge that had invaded them. Knowledge that should have not been theirs, but was, at the horrific cost of their souls, and all because of the man in front of them.

Together, they yelled “ _Protego!_ ” and a shield popped into existence and blocked two of the stunners, reflecting them harmlessly into the wall. Unfortunately, their shield wasn't in time and the first one hit Dobby, who was unprepared to defend himself, only his self appointed charges. The anger raged through them, feeding the hate from which their knowledge was derived, and they started yelling spells.

“ _Confringo!_ ” they sent from Harry.

Lucius had no time to throw up a shield, he had not expected two children and an elf to cause him this much trouble. He quickly spun out of the way as the spell zipped by his head, striking the wall behind him, obliterating the large stone that it hit and shattering several around it. He winced as the stone shards struck at him and then cried out as his momentum carried him straight into the _diffindo_ curse that they had fired from Ginny immediately after.

The spell struck his left arm, cutting deeply, and continuing behind him where it, too, hit the wall and cracked the stone with a thunderous bang. He could feel the blood already running down his arm. Finally stopping his momentum, he brought his wand to bear, but was too slow as Harry and Ginny had already together cast another spell.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ”

The spell slammed into his chest, throwing him backwards into the wall where he toppled sideways like a felled tree, landing on his injured arm. Striking the wall had apparently knocked him unconscious, his eyes were closed, and blood was pooling at his shoulder. But the anger and hate still raged through Harry and Ginny, and they wanted vengeance. They had just started to call their next spell when a voice, quietly but firmly, cut them off from behind.

“ _Silencio._ ”

Albus Dumbledore walked around to face them, looking them in their eyes. His calm, blue eyes met their rage filled green and brown eyes, and they felt a tickling in their minds. Instantly they slammed up shields —

_Occlumency?_

_He's using Legilimency._

— and he frowned a little.

“You didn't tell me everything, did you?” he admonished.

They merely glared at him, the rage pouring through them feeding their distrust.

_He tried to invade our mind!_

“Please, look at each other. Look at yourselves.”

Their primary target was down, and Dumbledore had been helpful so far, so they reluctantly followed his request. They turned to face each other, staring into their own eyes, shutting out the world around them.

_Why are we angry?_

_Malfoy-_

_Is down. It's over._

_He caused-_

_NO! We will not be like_ him _!_

They reached to each other, physically and mentally. They wrapped into a hug, Ginny staring up at Harry, and their minds relaxed. As had happened earlier in the hospital, they felt for each other in their souls, and in reaching for each other, they drove out the hate and rage that had been compelling them.

_What did we do?_

_We... we..._

_Oh no._

Harry and Ginny started crying into each other, collapsing to the floor, and instantly their parents were at their side. Molly held up Ginny while Arthur supported Harry, both of them careful not to separate the children.

Dumbledore looked at them, his own eyes watering as he finally understood that more than their souls were damaged in the battle. Their minds had been raped. At the ages of eleven and twelve years old, these children understood hate in a way most adults couldn't comprehend. They had brought with them knowledge of spells that was far beyond their ken, and if he was correct in his assessment, more knowledge than just spells had been forced into them.

He pointed his own wand at them and released the silencing spell. His face fell when their silent sobs became a loud wailing. Fear, sadness, and shame poured from the cries that filled his ears, and he could do nothing but watch as Molly and Arthur held the children, doing their utmost to comfort them.

Finally, he turned towards the bleeding and defeated Lucius Malfoy, staring in wonder at the damaged wall behind him. Malfoy had since woken up and was glaring at the scene in front of him. Dumbledore knelt down in front of the subdued Malfoy and spoke quietly so that neither the children nor the parents present could hear.

“I will release you, Lucius. You will leave the grounds, and you will not return. Nor will you fight it when I have you removed as a school Governor. You have made more mistakes here than simply that of attacking two students on school grounds in front of witnesses, and I truly hope you never have to find out what they are.”

He pointed his wand and murmured a counter curse. He stood up and stepped away, keeping his wand trained on the now mobile Lucius Malfoy. Lucius stood up, glared and the headmaster, the blood traitors, and finally, the children — children! — who in a single day had delivered him a defeat from which his pride might never recover.

Brushing and smoothing his robes, Malfoy winced as the still bleeding laceration made itself known again. Another look at Dumbledore and he knew there would be no help for that on the school grounds. He ran his hands over his hair, pulling it back behind his head and wincing again. Finally, he picked his wand up off the floor and stalked from the castle.

Dumbledore then walked over to Dobby and mumbled the _enervate_ spell. The elf popped up, looked around and launched himself in a panic towards Harry and Ginny. Wrapping himself around Harry's leg, he started to profusely thank his savior.

“Harry Potter is alive! He beat the Dark Wizard Malfoy! Oh, bad Dobby! To speak ill of... But Dobby is free! Free!! Harry Potter freed Dobby, Harry Potter is the most powerful wizard!...”

Unfortunately, poor Dobby only noticed Harry crying at that moment. Dobby decided that it was his praise that had upset his idol, and proceeded to vilify himself, looking for the nearest object with which to punish himself.

“Bad, Dobby! _Bad_ , Dobby! Dobby is such a horrible house elf. And now that that Dobby is free, and no longer has a master to upset, he still is a bad elf!”

By this point, Dobby had determined there was nothing with which to punish himself, had darted to the nearest wall and was slamming his head against it. Dumbledore eyed the house elf warily and, unable to think of another solution, cast a cushioning charm on the wall. Dobby was so lost in his self punishment that he never even noticed.

“Molly, Arthur, why don't you take the children back to the hospital wing. I will join you soon. I'll just take care of,” he glanced quickly at the elf still beating his head against the cushioned wall and muttering, “him, then then I'll be along.”

The adult Weasleys nodded and then cast _mobilicorpus_ on their daughter and her other half. Harry and Ginny were no longer wailing, and their tears had stopped, but they were still shivering and whimpering ever so quietly. Molly was on the verge of tears herself, it pained her to see her children — for Harry was now as much hers as Ginny was — in such distress, but she held herself together and proceeded towards the hospital along with her husband, their children in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thanks to everyone for reading, and for those trinket nominations. That was a pleasant surprise after only two chapters.
> 
> A reviewer caused me to realize this meeting day doesn't match the canon time line. I seem to have pushed it off a day. Whoops. Oh well, this is AU anyway, and I don't think it's a huge change.
> 
> I apologize for the general dark feeling of the chapter. It wasn't my original intent, but I think it's important for the character development over the summer, which promises to be much lighter. Same goes for the hospital scene and Harry's, er, reaction. I actually struggled with whether I should include the scene, and though it was easily removed, I couldn't do it without impacting the character development. I hope I didn't offend everyone.
> 
> Lastly, Ive seen some comments flying around various stories online about copying and including too much canon verbatim, which detracts from originality. In this chapter, for me, it was more of a literary exercise. The meeting needed to take place, and most of Dumbledore's points were still valid, so I wanted to see if I could meld that particular piece of canon work into my story. I think I accomplished it, what do you think?
> 
> Ok, that's it, I'll try to avoid the excessively long notes at the end from now on. The next chapter should be up a bit sooner than usual, Im a fair ways through it already.


	4. Chapter 4

“No, Albus. Absolutely not. I forbid it!”

The admonition was whispered, but not by much. It was a whisper that Ginny had heard often while growing up. It was her mother, and the tone was the one she used when arguing with her father when she didn't want the rest of the family to hear.

“Molly, we discussed this. I don't know if it will even be possible, but if it is, we must consider it. Harry's safety is paramount.”

“And his safety is what I am worried about! He may be protected from... from... from _him_ and his minions, but what about those muggles you call his family?”

“Surely you can't believe he is in danger from his own family?”

There was a pause as she dealt with her own anger before continuing. And when she did continue, her whispers had dropped to a barely audible level. Ginny knew this was a sign that her mother was no longer just angry, she was now furious.

“You didn't see him, Albus, when the boys rescued him. He obviously hadn't been fed, and there were bruises. Bruises! He didn't trip and fall, Albus. He won't be going back there!”

Harry and Ginny hadn't heard much of the discussion, though they were pretty sure what it was about. They would have responded, but they weren't really awake. Instead, they were in that place between wakefulness and sleep, where the body — or in their case, bodies — were asleep, but their mind aware. But that was slowly changing. Growing pressures caused them to realize that there was something they hadn't taken care of since before the battle.

_But that was over a day ago._

_Remember Percy at St. Mungo's?_

_Because of the twins, the eggs,_

_and the rabbit. The nurses, er..._

_Banish it._

The intruding pressure caused them to awaken, and they moved slightly in bed, catching the attention of the adults.

“Good evening. Are you feeling better?” asked the Headmaster.

“Yes.”

“Maybe.”

“We're fine.”

“I guess.”

“But?” prompted Dumbledore.

“Professor, we um, well,” they glanced nervously at the Headmaster and then their parents. They finally decided they were being a bit silly.

“Sir, we have to go to the bathroom.”

“Yes, I should have thought of that. It has been a while. But since you've been awake...” He turned his head towards Madam Pomfrey's office and called out, “Poppy! May we borrow you for a minute?”

Madam Pomfrey came bustling out of her office, a scowl on her face that Harry and Ginny were starting to realize she reserved for the headmaster. She glanced at her patients, and seeing that they were awake, she wondered what was wrong.

“Poppy, it seems your patients need to, how do I put this delicately? They need to make use of the facilities, as the muggles say. I realize they are awake, but they've been through quite a lot in the past couple days...”

Madam Pomfrey looked at her patients once more, and felt a bit of pity. This was definitely not something they should have to deal with right now.

“You understand, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, the reason we only do this on the unconscious is not just because the conscious can usually take care of themselves, but because it is... Well, it's uncomfortable.” She met Harry's eyes and asked them, “Are you sure you want me to do this?”

_No more sorting out today._

_It's been enough._

_She said it's uncomfortable._

_Can't be worse than not touching._

“Yes, please,” they replied together.

“Very well.”

She pointed her wand at Harry, and after a series of tiny, yet complex movements, muttered a spell they couldn't hear. Suddenly, Harry's abdomen felt like it was going to explode. A pain shot from his stomach backwards to his spine, and then the pressure was gone, sort of. Ginny still needed to use the loo.

“How does that not wake up the unconscious?”

“I told you it was unpleasant. Are you sure you want to do it again?”

Harry and Ginny nodded and she repeated the procedure on Ginny. When it was complete, they felt much better. In fact, they felt as if the procedure also dispensed with the feeling of filth they had maintained from the earlier skirmish. They smiled a little, and took a deep breath.

“Better then?” inquired Madam Pomfrey. When they nodded and said a thank-you, she replied, “Good. I'll be back in my office, unless anything else is needed.”

She turned her scowl back on the Headmaster who smiled benignly. “No, that was all. Not a spell I'm comfortable with myself. Thank you, Poppy.”

She nodded at him and retired back to her office. Harry and Ginny realized they had only ever seen her go to her office and wondered if it also served as her living apartment. It would certainly make sense considering she probably needed to be near the infirmary most of the time she wasn't doing anything else.

“Harry, Ginny,” started Dumbledore, “there is something we need to discuss. It is about your summer arrangements.”

“Arrangements?”

“We're going home, aren't we?”

“Indeed,” nodded Dumbledore. “However, 'home' may not be as simple as that.”

“How so?”

“Home is the Burrow.”

“I see. And what about Privet Drive? What about your aunt and uncle?” asked Dumbledore.

Harry and Ginny paused for a minute, trying to figure out how to explain it.

“The Burrow is home because the Burrow is _a_ home.”

“Privet Drive never was. I didn't know it before because, um...”

“Because is was the only thing I, er, he knew.”

“I didn't know how else a home was supposed be.”

“But now we can't imagine anywhere but the Burrow,”

“Or maybe Hogwarts,”

“As home,” they finished.

At their explanation, Dumbledore turned, smiling grimly at Molly Weasley. Mrs. Weasley met his stare and arched her eyebrows. One didn't need to be Harry, Ginny, or any of the Weasley clan, to interpret her unspoken 'I told you so.'

“Yes, it seems you will have your way, Molly. But this does complicate things.”

“Sir?” asked Harry and Ginny. “How is it complicated?”

“The Burrow is home,”

“Seems simple enough to us.”

Returning his attention to the two students, he explained, “Remember our talk when you first woke up after the Chamber? I told you your mother, Harry's mother, inadvertently used Love Magic to save you from Voldemort.”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley winced at the name, but Harry and Ginny simply nodded.

“I used that magic, Harry. I used it to keep you safe at your relatives. In my studies, I came across references to Blood Magic rituals that built upon the old magics. The protection on you, Harry, was able to repel the Killing Curse.

“When your parents were killed, I used a simple charm to enact the Blood Ritual. Your aunt activated it.”

“Aunt Petunia? She hates magic.”

“She would never take part in a ritual.”

“Especially if it involved blood!”

Dumbledore nodded, “That is true. She would never knowingly take part in something magical, but not all Blood Rituals require the shedding of blood. You see, the protection your mother placed on you lies in your blood. When your aunt took you in, she gave you a home. She was aware, from the note I left with you, that giving you a home would save your life. She may not have liked it, and I may have conveniently forgotten to mention that the reason was magical, but she did it nonetheless. As long as you can call the place where your mother's blood dwells home, Voldemort cannot touch or harm you.”

“And we can no longer call it home.”

“That is the crux of our dilemma, yes,” agreed the Headmaster.

“But my, his, er... whatever. Our mother's blood runs in Harry, why can't we be safe anywhere we call home?”

“A very intelligent question, and one with a complex answer. I won't bore you with the full explanation, so simply put, there needs to be a third party, an anchor if you will. Petunia, Lily's sister, served that role in this case. And while her home was Harry's home, she anchored the protection to that place for him.

“The reason I intended to send you back was that you needed to be there to solidify that place as your home. Even if you were to call it home but not go there, the ritual spell would fade away.”

“It's not home. We can't, we _won't_ go back.”

“It seems we have no choice. Molly, they will be going,” he smiled at Harry and Ginny, his eyes twinkling once again, “ _home_ with you to The Burrow in a couple weeks. We will have to work on the wards in the meantime.”

Standing up and banishing his standard cushy chair, he stated, “I have some school business to attend to. I will have some food sent up, and I'm sure you will have some visitors in a bit. Molly, Arthur, when you are ready, come to my office and we will discuss the wards before you head home.”

After he left, Harry and Ginny sat in their bed, their sides pressed to each other, holding hands and staring at their parents. They hadn't been alone with them since they were joined and they didn't know what to say. The part of them that was Harry was feeling simultaneously joyous that he now had parents and guilty that he was replacing his parents. The part of them that was Ginny was nervous that their mother would fall back on her 'protect-the-female-baby' ways, upset that they were feeling guilty over her own parents, and annoyed that they were having so much trouble sorting out their feelings.

“We're going to have to tell your brothers,” Mrs. Weasley commented.

The suddenness of the comment pulled Harry and Ginny from their emotional turmoil as they focused on what she said. Once they processed the comment, their emotions solidified into a combined fear and nervousness. Surely Bill and Charlie wouldn't handle this as well Ron had. And who knew what the twins would when they found out.

“But...”

“No buts. You didn't have to tell us, Albus made that clear, but you did. I'm your mother, Ginevra, and I might as well now be yours, Harry, and I'm telling you, the rest of our family will not be kept in the dark about this. I refuse to lie to them as to why our daughter will be sleeping in the same bed as a boy they hardly know.”

They wanted to scream, they wanted to hide, they wanted to run away. They had not wanted anyone to know, but Dumbledore had figured it out, and they recognized the need for help. But now their small group of help was growing, and the more people that knew, the more chance there was...

“Harry, Ginny,” Mr. Weasley's soft voice cut into their thoughts, “calm down.”

They looked around and were surprised at what they saw. Beds and chairs all over the room were shaking across the floor. Several bottles in a nearby cabinet had shattered, their contents dripping off the shelves. Madam Pomfrey had stuck her head out her office to make sure everything was okay, but realized there was nothing she could do and let their parents take care of it.

Harry and Ginny worked to calm their breathing, which they had not noticed had become fast and short. They relaxed the hold of their now sore hands which had tightened in their panic. They looked into each other's eyes and once again, for the third time that day, used each other to calm themselves and rid themselves of fear. And once they were calm, they realized what she had said.

_In the same bed._

_She's not going to try to keep us..._

_Proper?_

_She's not fighting it._

_Then, if she's trying-_

_I don't want them to know!_

Then a thought, most likely Harry's but it was hard to be sure, caused them a start.

_Harry never had a family, and now that we have one —_

_together —_

_do we really need to start lying to them?_

_Alienating them?_

_Let them know us._

_Us. Together._

_Let them be our family._

The Weasley parents didn't really know how to read Harry. Most of his friends couldn't read him. Ron and Hermione were only still learning, but the Weasleys didn't know that. They did know how to read their daughter, though, and apparently their joining didn't change certain basic habits.

Ginny was conflicted. She was chewing her lip, deep in thought. Eleven years and many arguments had taught them both to simply wait her out. She would eventually come to the right conclusion, and if it was the wrong one, they could deal with it then. For now, they just watched her.

They also took the opportunity to study their newest son. His face was hidden. Not physically, it was right in front of them, but they couldn't see anything on it. There was no show of emotion, no display of what he — _they_ Mrs. Weasley corrected herself — were thinking. Mrs. Weasley internally cursed the Dursleys, using words to herself that had she ever spoken aloud, her family would have had their wands out wondering who she was and what she had done with the real Molly Weasley.

She came to realize that the only reason for a child to hide their emotions so completely was because they were not taught, but rather conditioned, to never show their emotions. She had no doubts as to how he had been so conditioned, she had seen the proof when her boys had rescued him. To raise a child as sweet and kind as Harry and simply not care to that extent, Molly continued cursing his supposed 'family'.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ginny had come to a solution. They knew their brothers needed to know. Their mother was right, they would wonder about the bed sharing. But more than that, Harry had just learned what a family should be, and didn't want to violate that. At the same time, Ginny had always been close to her family, and while she had secrets, all family members did, she never lied about who she was to them. This was who they were now. Her family needed to be there for her.

“We want them all there.”

Molly had been so intently watching both of them, and hurling mental insults and death threats at the Dursleys, that when they spoke, she wasn't sure which one actually spoke. But it didn't matter, she knew what they wanted.

“Or?” she asked them.

“No 'or',”

“We don't say anything unless they're all there.”

“Bill and Charlie, too.”

“We tell the family,”

“The _whole_ family.”

It was a fair decision, and it was what she wanted. She was not going to lie to her children about one of their siblings. Not about something as important as this. And what they were asking for was perfectly reasonable.

She nodded to her children and then nearly fell out of her chair at the sudden, loud popping noise right next to her. She was even more surprised that the source of the noise was the strange little house elf that had previously belonged to the Malfoys, and that he was precariously balancing four very large trays filled with sandwiches and juice.

Mrs. Weasley jumped into action, grabbing two of the trays that appeared to be falling. How they hadn't already ended up on the floor was beyond her.

“Here! Here, you poor thing, let me help. Why they felt you needed to do this yourse-”

“Oh! No! Nononono! Dobby is a good house-elf. Dumbledore told Dobby his-self. Dobby is not needing help. But to offer help to a lowly elf... Oh! You must be a noble witch. To offer such a lowly Dobby help!”

Dobby burst once again into tears and appeared to be looking for a way to punish himself even though he hadn't set his trays down yet. Mrs. Weasley was extremely confused. She had never dealt with house elves before, and even if she had, she had no way of telling that Dobby was not like normal house elves. Meanwhile, she was trying to figure out why she was unable to take the trays, they seemed attached to the elf's arms.

“Dobby!” yelled Harry and Ginny.

Dobby stopped looked for ways to punish himself and his head snapped around towards the occupants of the bed. The sudden motion pushed one of the trays into a still confused Mrs. Weasley who promptly fell back into the chair she had been sitting in, the offending tray resting perfectly in her lap. She started at it, unsure at both how she had ended up in such a position and how the food appeared undisturbed on the plate and the juice still in the goblet.

“Yes, Mr. Harry Potter, sir?” responded Dobby, his eyes once again playing their tennis match between Harry and Ginny.

“What are you doing here, Dobby?”

“Is that food for us?”

“Oh! Yes, Harrys Potter, for you and the Wheezys!”

He quickly placed two of the trays on the laps of the bed occupants, awkwardly climbing the bed to do so. Though no one saw him turn, by the time he was standing once again and facing the bed, the fourth tray was innocuously sitting in Arthur Weasley's lap. Mr. Weasley was staring at the tray, nearly as confused as his wife.

“Harrys? Why did you refer to, uh, me as Harrys Potter.”

“Not you, Harry Potter, sir. Both of you are Harrys Potter.”

“You can... you can tell?”

“Oh yes, Harrys Potter, sir. Dobby is knowing very well what Harry Potter is looking, and you both are Harrys Potter. Dobby asked Dumbledore why, but Dumbledore swore Dobby to secrecy and told Dobby to ask Harry Potter.”

“You belong to Dumbledore now?”

“No, Harrys Potter. Dobby works for Hogwarts, Dumbledore is paying Dobby for Dobby's work! The other Hogwarts bound elves is not liking it, but Dumbledore says so, so they is not complaining too much.”

“So you're still free?”

“Yes! Dobby is free and has Harrys Potter to thanks!”

“Dobby, is it?” interrupted Mr. Weasley. At Dobby's nod of confirmation, he continued, “Dobby, you say you can tell that they're both Harry Potter. Is it possible for other elves to know?”

Dobby appeared to ponder that for a moment, and then replied, “Dobby doubts it, Sir Wheezy. Elves can tell a wizard, and can tell wizards who are like wizards. Elves might know that Harrys Potter is alike, but not both Harrys Potter. Dobby knows Harry Potter from before, and so Dobby can tell they are both Harrys Potter.”

“Dobby,”

“You know we're not only Harry, right?”

“Oh yes, Dobby knows. Dobby can see both Harrys Potter, but there is someone else, too. Dobby assumes because Dumbledore told him that Harry Potter and the Wheezys were here that the other Harry Potter is Ginny Wheezy?”

Harry and Ginny nodded at Dobby, who then began pulling his ears and moaning. They knew enough about the diminutive house elf to recognize his attempts to punish himself, though this particular attempt seemed quite mild.

“Dobby? What's wrong?”

“Dobby is asking your forgiveness, Harry Ginny, even though it is not for a lowly elf to ask for it. Dobby tried to save Harry Potter, and Ginny Wheezy got hurt. Now Harrys and Ginnys are all mixed up!!” Dobby started his moaning again, still twisting his ears.

Arthur and Molly glanced at each other, having difficulty following the ramblings of the possibly insane house elf. They were even more confused at how the Malfoy family's former house elf could have tried to help Harry. But they were also slightly surprised, as much as anything else could surprise them of late, that Harry and Ginny seemed to follow what the elf was saying just fine.

“Dobby,”

“Stop punishing yourself.”

Dobby stopped wringing his ears and looked expectantly at Harry and Ginny, both of whom were sitting up in their bed and looking at him.

“We can't forgive you, Dobby,” Ginny started.

They cut off Dobby's strangled reply when Harry seamlessly continued, “There's nothing to forgive.”

“Dobby, you did everything you could think of to help,”

“And while we, _I_ , didn't know you were helping,”

“You tried, even though Malfoy would hurt you.”

“Thank you, Dobby,” they finished, together.

Mrs. Weasley was crying. The Prewetts were not pureblood fanatics, but they were a part of pureblood society, and while he might not have dealt with house elves before, she had heard enough growing up to know how many of them were treated. She was proud at Harry and Ginny's treatment of the house elf. There was no doubt in her mind that as the Malfoy family's house elf, this Dobby must have had a hard life. She had seen how he was treated in the headmaster's office.

Dobby looked at them, tears also coming from his large eyes, rolling down his face and off his nose. He launched himself up onto the bed and wrapped himself around two of their legs, one of Harry's and one of Ginny's.

“Harry Ginny are the best wizards ever! To thank a lowly house elf Dobby! Thank you thank you thank you...”

“Dobby, we have to ask you something.”

He stopped his crying instantly and looked expectantly at Harry and Ginny.

“Anything for Harrys Potter. Just ask!”

“Dobby,”

“You can't tell _anyone_ about us. No one can know.”

Dobby looked at them in askance, “And those that is already knowing, Harry Ginny?”

“If it becomes important, you can ask us,”

“Or Headmaster Dumbledore. But please, its just better if...”

“Dobby understands!” Dobby took a look and realized that the Weasley parents had finished their food and drink while watching the exchange. “Oh! Dobby should clean up. And Ginnys Harry Wheezy Potter needs to eat. Dobby will take the Wheezys' trays and will take Harrys' later.”

Dobby vanished with another 'pop' and the trays in Molly's and Arthur's laps had disappeared with him. Molly and Arthur glanced at each other, only vaguely sure at what had just taken place, and then faced their children, who were now eating their sandwiches together.

“So, um...” started Mr. Weasley. “Dobby has helped you before?”

Harry stopped eating, and Ginny paused while they put Harry's sandwich back on the plate, then they continued finishing her sandwich while Harry spoke.

“'Help' might not be the right word.”

Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows rose in a question, and Arthur nodded for him to continue.

“Apparently Dobby is the reason the barrier at Platform 9 ¾ closed,” there was a gasp from Mrs. Weasley, but Harry continued, “And he's also the reason a bludger broke my arm at the Quidditch match.”

They had finished Ginny's sandwich, so they picked up Harry's while Ginny continued.

“He was just trying to keep me, er, Harry from getting killed. He was trying to get me to leave Hogwarts to be safe.”

“That's possibly the most insane reasoning I've ever heard. And dealing with Fred and George's reasoning on a daily basis, that's saying something,” commented Mrs Weasley.

“He's not insane. At least, I, we don't think he is. He's just...”

They paused, trying to find the right word.

“Overzealous,” completed Harry, who had just finished his sandwich.

Together, Harry and Ginny drank their juice, and when they were done, their trays simply vanished.

_That had to be Dobby._

_Yeah, overzealous._

“Well, based on everything that's happened, obviously Ginny didn't tell us everything about her year. And from what you just said, Ron wasn't telling us everything about his and Harry's, either. So, why don't we talk about it?” asked their father.

Harry's need to not lie to his brand new family overwhelmed Ginny's reluctance to explain how stupid she felt she had been. So, they spent the next hour or so talking about their year. Mr. Weasley even filled them in on some of the goings on at the ministry when the attacks started, and their mother — Harry liked that — continually asked questions about it all.

Each time Mrs. Weasley asked a question, Ginny's desire to be annoyed was quickly drowned by Harry's joy at having a mother who cared enough to ask. Finally, the Ginny in them gave up and let them be happy at having such a caring family. The newness that Harry felt at it all reminded them of how much Ginny often took for granted.

They were talking about their discovery of Lockhart's true colors — their mother's reaction was much tamer than they expected, apparently she had worked it out of her system when she lectured Ron after seeing that Harry and Ginny were okay — when Hermione and Ron showed up. They peered around the privacy curtain that now surrounded Harry and Ginny's bed and smiled when they saw their friends awake.

Their mother stood up and gave the newcomers her standard crushing hug, and then looked at her husband.

“Arthur, let's let the children have some time together. We should go and discuss the wards with Albus.”

Mr. Weasley stood, smiled at Harry and Ginny, a smile they recognized as the one he only gave Ginny, and followed his wife out, patting Ron's shoulder on the way. They passed by Madam Pomfrey's office to let her know they were going and to apologize for the mess their children made. After assurances from the medi-witch that it was quite alright, they left the Hospital Wing.

Once they were gone, Ron and Hermione smiled hesitantly at their bed-ridden friends and Ron asked, “Alright, mate?”

“Yeah, we're fine.”

Ron and Hermione both raised their eyebrows and looked directly at Ginny. When they realized that more information was not forthcoming, Ron said, “Well, I guess you look better than the wall.”

“The wall?” they asked.

“Yeah, the wall outside Dumbledore's office. The one that looks like the entire school tried hexing it.”

“What happened?” asked Hermione.

Harry and Ginny sighed, then they laid back onto their bed, closing their eyes. Ginny curled up onto Harry in much the same way their friends had seen them yesterday when Dumbledore had called them out of the Common Room. Finally, they opened Harry's eyes and explained.

“We um... we took something of Malfoy's,”

“And he didn't like it.”

“You took something?” prompted Hermione.

“Kind of.”

“We figured out that Malfoy was the one who gave us the diary,”

“In Flourish and Blotts,”

“And we did something to get even.”

“Dumbledore even helped us.”

“But Malfoy didn't like it,”

“So he attacked us.”

“He what?!!” yelled Ron and Hermione together. Hermione's mouth was open in shock, the thought of an adult, a _parent_ attacking children, was anathema to her. Ron's face was red and his eyes were blazing. They were pretty sure he was ready to go find and take on the senior Malfoy that very moment.

“But, guys,” said Hermione after a moment. “What about the wall? I mean, this is a castle, built to withstand a lot. And according to _Hogwarts: A History_ , the founders recognized the danger of errant magic in a magical school, and so there were spells worked into Hogwarts at its construction that protect it from even most stronger types of magical spells. I doubt Mr. Malfoy could cause that kind of damage. How did it happen?”

Harry and Ginny took deep, shuddering breaths. Harry closed his eyes again as they started shivering. Ron knew that Hermione would keep pressing if she didn't get her answer soon. She had an annoying habit of not knowing when to back off when she was working on a problem. So before she could ask them again, he stood up and put his hand on his sisters back.

“It's okay, really. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to.”

He started to rub his sister's back to calm her down when it struck him that he was also rubbing his best friend's back. He paused for a moment, but then decided that it didn't matter. Harry was as good as his brother, wasn't he?

Harry and Ginny opened their eyes, calmed slightly as they were by Ron's actions, and looked at each other. They drew deep breaths again and calmed down in a way that was quickly becoming familiar.

_We should tell them._

_What will they think, though._

_It doesn't matter. Dumbledore already knows._

_He won't tell anyone._

_But we can't hide it from them. The next time we get angry,_

_or embarrassed... Right, we should tell them._

“We... um...”

“We know things.”

“Does this have to do with the diary? With how all this happened?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah.”

They breathed again. What was done to them, to their souls, was painful beyond understanding. What they were now, they honestly felt they were better this way. But what they were left with, and the feelings it invoked, scared them greatly.

“Tom... Tom left... It was...”

“We're not really sure how to describe this.”

Ron was still rubbing Ginny's back and Hermione was watching them, waiting for her answer. She was ready to prod them on, but a quick glance at Ron made her decide to wait.

“When we fought Tom in the diary, we saw things.”

“Everything Tom was, everything he knew and felt was in there.”

“And when we were drawn into the diary, we felt and knew it all as well.”

“That was the worst part of the whole thing.”

“How so?” interrupted Hermione, unable to help herself.

Harry and Ginny closed their eyes, and Hermione was afraid she had lost her chance to find out what was happening with them — with what it had to do with the damage to the wall — but then they continued with their eyes still closed. She realized they were now probably reliving what happened in the diary and she desperately wanted to stop them, but they kept going.

“The diary was him. There was nothing there that wasn't him.”

“And we were now a part of that. We were _him_ , Hermione,” tears were leaking down their faces, now.

“We knew what he knew, felt what he felt.”

“The hatred, the contempt for everyone and everything. It became a part of who we were.”

“We couldn't stop it. It hurt so much!”

Their tears were flowing freely now. Their words were unsteady and wracked with pain. She knew her questions had brought this on, but now the guilt was overwhelming. She didn't want her friends to hurt like this, not because of her questions, so she stood up to tell them to stop, but suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up and behind her, and saw the hand belonged to Madam Pomfrey. Apparently she had come to look in on her patients, probably to tell them it was time to sleep, when she heard what was going on. She merely shook her head, the sadness evident in her eyes, and looked back to the bed. Ron was still here, doing his best to comfort them, but he was looking at Madam Pomfrey, a helpless look on his face.

“When we finally woke up here, well, you know what happened then.”

“But we quickly realized something.”

“We still remembered it all. Everything he knew and felt,”

“It's still in us.”

“He's not there, it doesn't feel like him, like the diary, but everything else is.”

They paused again, momentarily, then continued once more.

“He made us angry.”

“We've never been that angry,”

“Either of us. But once we started, we couldn't stop.”

“Everything he did, everything we did, just made us angrier.”

“And then, all those spells, we just started using them.”

“We wanted to _hurt_ him.”

Their voices had gotten progressively quieter throughout the explanation. They were obviously drifting off to sleep. The past several days had taken their toll on the two students. But even in their sleep, they were crying and whimpering, and they continually tightened their holds on themselves.

Madam Pomfrey walked over to one of the nearer cabinets, the remnants of several potions still dripping from their earlier outburst, and she took out two devices Hermione recognized as syringes. She approached her patients, Ron eying the devices warily.

“Muggle medical devices, Mr. Weasley. I find they're quite useful for measuring and administering potions to unconscious patients. It seems silly to wake a patient for a draught of Dreamless Sleep, does it not?”

Ron nodded and backed away from the bed, allowing the school Healer to inject his sister and best friend with the obviously needed potions. When she was done, and Harry and Ginny noticeably relaxed, she Banished the syringes and looked at the visitors, Hermione in particular.

“I didn't hear your entire conversation, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't what you were intending to happen.” Hermione looked at the medi-witch, tears unshed in her eyes. “Don't you worry yourself about it. Believe it or not, what you did was a good thing. No matter the results, whether they like their new existence or not, that battle was extremely traumatic. They will need to talk about things in order to come to grips with what has happened to them. It seems they trust you enough with that information. Just don't force them, and listen when they need to talk.

“If something they say worries you, or you think you need help, I will always be available for you, and for them. In the meantime, they won't wake until tomorrow. You can sit with them for a while, but you must be back in your tower before curfew.”

Madam Pomfrey quickly cast several minor diagnostic spells making sure everything was as it seemed with her patients, nodded at the results, and then made her way back to her office. Ron, who had remained standing since before Harry and Ginny's explanation, pulled his chair closer to the bed and lay his head by his sister's back.

Hermione also pulled her chair to the foot of the bed. She placed her arms by their feet and leaned onto the bed, staring at her friends, working her way through what they had told her. The tears that were threatening to spill in front of Madam Pomfrey finally escaped, and for the first time since Dumbledore had explained everything to them, Hermione understood what had happened to her friends beyond the simple logic. Hermione swore to herself she would read as many books as necessary, both magical and muggle, to figure out the best way to help her friends.

And so it was, later that evening, that when Molly Weasley entered the Hospital wing to bid her children goodnight before heading home, she found Harry and Ginny sleeping peacefully on the bed and Hermione and Ron sleeping in their chairs. There were clearly signs of tears on all of their faces. Reluctantly, she woke Ron and Hermione and sent them back to their tower.

The conversation in the headmaster's office had been most enlightening. She had learned several things from Harry's past that, while surprising, unfortunately made a lot of sense. And now it seemed that her own daughter's fate was inextricably bound with that of the boy she had started to see as one of her own before any of this had occurred. Now, he was one of her own.

She leaned over the bed and gently kissed each of them on the face. She smiled when she saw faint smiles appear on both of their faces at each kiss, and then she made her way out of the hospital. She knew she would do whatever it took to help them, but should couldn't help but feel guilty for not being able to protect them, for not having been able to prevent this from happing.

But Harry had protected Ginny in the end. Ron had helped. Even knowing that they might have to face a basilisk at the end, they went after her. Molly knew they had been lucky, it was possibly one of the most insane things any of her children had ever done. Although, she thought, their quest to save the Philosopher's Stone their prior year might have been just as insane. But it had all worked in the end, and she realized insanity had its place.

“Dobby,” she whispered in the quiet hallway.

There was a 'pop' and the house elf was standing in front of her.

“Yes, Mistress Wheezy?”

“I'm not your mistress, Dobby.” The elf just stared at her, waiting. “You truly want to help Harry, don't you.”

“Dobby would do anything for Harry Potter, Mistress Wheezy, and for Harrys Potter.”

“Then be there for them. Watch them. You can do things in this castle that regular witches and wizards can't.” Dobby nodded solemnly. “Help them, be their friend, and if they need anything, _any_ thing, you know who to go to for help.”

Dobby continued to stare at her for a while longer, then he looked at the double doors to the Hospital Wing. He nodded and said, “Dobby will do anything for the great Harrys Potter.”

Sure her children would be well looked after until they could arrive at the Burrow, she made her way out of the castle, past the front gates, and Apparated home to her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know I said it wouldn't be long, but do you know how hard it is to get a straight answer from Dobby? I had to rewrite that section four times. I'm still not entirely sure about it, but its the best of the bunch, so its the one that stays. I'd kinda like to know how you all think it turned out. Anyway, Dobby at this point may or may not make an appearance next chapter, so I cant make any promises on timing.


	5. Chapter 5

The two weeks left in the term passed fairly normally for most of the school. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had been canceled owing to the class’ professor having lost his memory.

“I’m glad that the class was canceled and all,” Ron had at one point commented. He interrupted Hermione’s protest by continuing, “But honestly, I’m not sure it would make much difference. The git didn’t know anything to teach us to begin with.”

Hermione smiled and let it pass, and the twins had heartily agreed with his assessment. Several of the students would have sworn they heard an amused sniff coming from the direction of Professor McGonagall who had been passing by their section of the table at that moment.

Adding to the general good cheer of the student body was the news that a certain school governor had been sacked. Draco Malfoy was no longer strutting around the school like he owned it, and his usual tag-alongs Crabbe and Goyle followed looking less mean and decidedly more confused than usual.

Students attended the rest of their classes, though without any exams, students weren’t putting their all in the classes. Most of the professors, Professor Snape being the only noticeable exception, only made sure that their students were aware of their summer assignments and let them relax. After the stresses of multiple student petrifications and the threat of the school closing, the staff decided the students deserved their relaxation.

However, for the two students confined, more or less, to the hospital, the two weeks was a much needed time for relearning the basics. They had required Madam Pomfrey to take care of them the first couple mornings to avoid making a mess before they could make it to the bathroom. But they had taken the opportunities later in the day when the need was less imperative to figure it out.

It was one of the more embarrassing challenges for them. They had missed several times, apparently the reflex to release the bladder was very hard for them to control individually. When one of them went to release, so did the other, and unfortunately there was only one toilet in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey took it in stride and cleaned them up, encouraging them to keep trying. Despite the medi-witch’s good cheer, they were often in tears afterwards. By the time they had to go home, they still hadn’t figured it out how to use the bathroom independently, but they avoided further messes when, at Madam Pomfrey’s request, the house elves installed a second toilet.

With help from Hermione and Ron, they had spent time eating with forks and knives while talking with their friends, becoming much more comfortable performing those tasks at the same time. However, on days that had proven difficult — too many times falling down, too many embarrassing situations in the loo, too much frustration trying to do anything — dinner was always sandwiches.

_We should remember to thank him._

_He might have to punish himself if we do..._

During breaks and after classes, which their friends were still attending, they went for walks with Ron and Hermione around the castle and the grounds of Hogwarts. They even spent several evenings trying to run across the Quidditch pitch and could manage short distances before they keeled forward, which inevitably happened every time. They still had a difficult time with stairs, though, and argued with Hermione several times when she insisted they walk up and down all seven flights of castle stairs. On each occasion, it had taken Ron telling Hermione to back off to quell the arguments.

One evening, the four of them made it up to the Owlery. Harry and Ginny had been concerned that Hedwig might have thought they — or maybe only Harry — were ignoring her. After the arduous climb up the stairs, they stepped into the room at the top of the tower, and Hedwig glared at them balefully. Once she was done glaring, she turned her head and studiously ignored them.

Harry kept calling to her and finally she swooped down, landing on Harry’s outstretched arm, and bit his fingers rather hard. Both he and Ginny yelped in pain. Hedwig’s eyes narrowed at him and then at Ginny. She hooted quite loudly, nipped in her more friendly manner at Harry’s fingers — avoiding the ones she had just hurt — and then hopped over to Ginny’s shoulder, where she settled comfortably letting both Harry and Ginny pet her. After the surprising reaction of their owl, they spent the rest of the night talking and feeding Hedwig bits of sausage they had saved from dinner.

Several times a day, Harry and Ginny tried the exercise that Hermione had first taught them, rubbing their stomachs and patting their heads with opposite hands. After the first time, they no longer practiced it standing, but still made next to no progress accomplishing the task. What they had accomplished so far were two black eyes, a boxed ear, and three cracked ribs. Madam Pomfrey fixed them up each time with no complaints. In fact, she finished her healing each time with more encouragement to keep trying.

Professor McGonagall visited with them several evenings. She mostly discussed the material they had missed in their classes — she checked with all of their instructors about what had been covered. However, the Friday before they left, she didn’t bring any classwork with her. Instead, she handed them each what appeared to be mirror fragments.

“I took these off of some students about fifteen or sixteen years ago,” she began her explanation. “They’re actually a remarkable bit of charms work. It took me nearly a year to determine the entirety of the magic used, and even then I required Professor Flitwick’s help. The students in question had been using these mirrors to coordinate certain acts across school grounds. I’m fairly certain that there were other mirrors in the set, but I have no proof.”

She was looking directly at Harry while giving the explanation. Harry and Ginny though this was a bit odd, she usually spoke to whomever had their eyes open as they often only kept one pair of eyes open, but Harry’s eyes were closed. They then noticed the corners of her mouth curl in ever so slight a smile.

“Professor?” they asked.

“What do the mirrors do?”

“They’ve been enchanted to allow communication between them. Apparently distance is not much of a hindrance. If you’ll recall, I promised to find a way for you to contact me in case anything occurred.” They nodded their remembrance. “Well, this is what I’ve come up with. I took three of these mirrors. You are holding two of them, the third is in my pocket.”

They looked at Ginny’s mirror, seeing her reflection in it. They then tilted Harry’s mirror towards Ginny and saw her in there as well.

“How do they work?”

“First, we must let the mirrors know that you are their users,” explained Professor McGonagall. “Point your wands at the mirrors and say, ‘I,’ and state your full name, ‘am the rightful user of this implement of mayhem.’”

Harry’s eyes shot open and both Harry and Ginny stared at their professor in shock.

“Mayhem?” they asked.

“The ‘certain acts’ I told you they were used for. You didn’t think I’d confiscate them just for being magical, do you?” she responded, her eyebrow raised. “Alright then, perform your charms.”

Harry and Ginny were sitting next to each other, and had been holding hands as they were usually wont to do. They were always reluctant to let go, but as they were wearing their hospital gowns, their legs were touching and they were much more comfortable using all four of their hands separately. They grabbed Harry’s wand off the side table and pointed it at the mirror in his other hand.

Careful to make sure that only Harry was speaking, they said, “I, Harry James Potter, am the rightful user of this implement of mayhem.”

When nothing happened, they looked at Professor McGonagall, who in turned looked slightly perplexed.

“Hmmm, perhaps this is due to your condition. Why don’t you do Miss Weasley’s as well before we call this a failure,” she instructed.

They grabbed Ginny’s wand off of the other bedside table and repeated the procedure for her mirror, having Ginny recite, “I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, am the rightful user of this implement of mayhem.”

As soon as she finished her statement, both mirrors flared a bright golden-white. Once they faded, Harry and Ginny focused on both of the mirrors and saw their reflections reappear. However, in the mirror Harry was holding, for the briefest of instants, his reflection was ever so slightly longer and more angular, and they swore his eyes were brown. But, before they could be sure, Harry was once again reflected as himself from his mirror.

Likewise, in Ginny’s mirror, her reflection briefly looked... _off_ was the only word they could think of, and her eyes appeared to be Harry’s. And as with Harry’s mirror, Ginny’s was reflecting her own visage quickly afterwards.

_Maybe the light and looking at both reflections..._

_At the same time? Maybe._

Once the glow that indicated ownership faded, Professor McGonagall said, “Good. Now, to use the mirrors, simply hold it in your hand and state the name of another mirror’s owner.”

Still holding their mirrors, they said, “Ginny!” into Harry’s mirror. They both jumped when Ginny’s mirror started vibrating slightly in her hands and Harry’s voice echoed from the mirror. As they looked at their mirrors, they realized something had changed, but they weren’t sure what. They glanced up at their professor, a look of confusion on their faces.

Professor McGonagall had quickly deduced what was occurring and gave them some advice.

“Perhaps that wasn’t the best first try. Why don’t one of you close your eyes and then look at the mirrors again.”

They closed Ginny’s eyes, and when they looked at Harry’s mirror, they now saw it was Ginny picture in it with her eyes closed.

_Same reflections,_

_Different mirrors!_

They opened Ginny’s eyes and sure enough, they saw both of their reflections the same as before. Now, though, they understood what they were seeing.

“Professor?”

“How do we tell it we’re done?”

“The mirrors seem to know all on their own,” said Professor McGonagall. “It was one of the more ingenious charms.”

As Harry and Ginny stared at their mirrors, they realized that the reflections had indeed gone back to their proper mirrors.

“Now that you know how the mirrors work, you may use them anytime you need. If something happens to you and no one else is around, if dealing with your family becomes difficult — which I think it might, knowing your brothers, — if you simply need someone not in your family to talk to so that you can work out some of your difficulties, if any of these things or anything else occurs and you need help, call me. I will endeavor to always have my mirror on me. I made you a promise last week that I would help you however I could, and I intend to keep it.”

She gave her students one of her rare smiles, and they smiled right back at her.

“Thank you so much, Professor.”

“Mum and Dad seem to be coping, but you’re right,”

“We don’t know how the others will act.”

“And to tell the truth, we’re afraid Mum may act differently once we get home.”

McGonagall looked at them pointedly and commented, “I wouldn’t be too sure about that. But in any case, it’s time for the Leaving Feast. Poppy has told me she has cleared you to go. Miss Granger is convinced you can handle yourselves around the food such that no one will notice anything, and they will be there to help you. I will also be watching you from the Head Table. So, I will leave you two to get dressed, and I will see you in the Great Hall.”

Once McGonagall was gone, they went through the actions of getting dressed. They still had a bit of difficulty accomplishing this without blushing, but they were determined to be comfortable with their bodies — both of them. They finished getting dressed and sat back on their bed, practicing their head-stomach routine until Ron and Hermione eventually arrived to escort them to dinner.

“Now remember, you two, try and focus on one conversation at a time. Don’t let everyone try and pull each of you into separate conversations, you haven’t even tried that yet. Also, most of the students are aware at least a little bit about what went on in the Chamber, so don’t be surprised when everyone starts asking about it. Oh, and don’t hold hands. I know its uncomfortable, but you need to keep in mind-”

“Hermione!” interrupted all three of her friends.

“You told them this already, Hermione,” said Ron. “They’ll be fine, we’ll be there to help them.”

Hermione eyed Harry and Ginny critically and then nodded. “I know, I’m just so worried.”

“We’ll be fine, Hermione.”

“Really we will.”

“And if we have too many problems, we’ll pull you into a conversation,”

“Just like we discussed.”

“Yeah, Hermione, we’ve discussed this. Several times. In detail. And I’m hungry,” confirmed Ron. “So, let’s go.”

Ginny and Harry grinned at their brother. Hermione just glared at him, and the quartet left the hospital toward the Great Hall.

Despite Hermione’s warning, Harry and Ginny weren’t ready for the onslaught of attention that occurred the instant they walked through the doors to the Great Hall. They were immensely thankful for their friends standing on each side of them. First, for keeping the crowd away from them — one errant bump into one of them would have caused both to fall — and for keeping holds on their arms, and thus further helping them keep upright in the crowd. The onlookers didn’t think twice of friends helping out friends who had spent the majority of two weeks in the hospital.

They hadn’t expected the size of the reaction, but the nature was familiar to them from Harry’s experiences. Mostly, students would say thank you, offer their wishes that the heroes would feel better soon, that kind of thing. The first real surprise came when Justin Finch-Fletchley stepped up to them looking a bit sheepish. The first words out of his out mouth were, “I’m sorry.”

Ron and Hermione were slightly taken aback at the apology, but Harry and Ginny thought they might understand. Justin had been quite cold to Harry after the whole snake-Parseltongue incident at the dueling club. They also had memories of Ginny hearing Justin spread some fairly nasty rumors in the hallways, but by then, she had become fairly withdrawn and hadn’t acted on them.

“I talked with Hermione a bit in the hospital after we had been unpetrified. I’ve been a right git towards you, Harry. The whole Parselmouth thing just scared me, but I should have known better. You’ve always been a good sort from what I’ve seen. So, I’m sorry.” He held out his hand, which they shook. “And Ginny, I want you to know, I don’t blame you for what happened. Hermione told me you weren’t in control of what was going on. And I guess if it really was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... Friends?”

He held his hand towards her this time, and once again the shook it.

“Okay, all of you, let’s let them eat. They’ve been in the hospital for two weeks, they deserve some good food!” shouted Ron as he tried to drive back the crowds.

There was some laughter at his remarks, none of the other students knew that Dobby had been providing them with top quality food, and a path cleared to the Gryffindor table. Students continued their well wishing all the way to the table, but they let Harry and Ginny have some peace once they were seated. All except for one of their fellow Gryffindors who dropped into the spot directly across from them.

“Hey, Harry! Hey, Ginny!” chirped Colin Creevey, his typical exuberance apparently unaffected by his recent petrification.

“Hey, Colin,” they replied together.

“Would you guys let me take your picture? The hero of the Chamber of Secrets and the friend that he rescued? That would be really neat. Of course, it’d have to be next year, my camera was ruined by the basilisk. But my dad got me a new one. It’s a muggle camera of course, and he promised to give me some money for a proper Wizarding camera, too. So, how about it? Can I take your picture next year?”

All four friends stared at Colin, wondering if he ever bothered to breathe, and were slightly surprised when he actually stopped talking.

“Um, maybe, Colin. But, were still, um...”

“We’re still trying to get better.”

“Yeah, maybe once we no longer have nightmares about it...”

The Great Hall was noisy, but not loud enough for them to miss Hermione’s gasp.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that,” apologized Colin. “I hope you feel better soon, though. I know you didn’t mean it Ginny. Is there any way I can help?”

“Thanks for the offer, Colin,” started Ginny,

“I think this is something we’re going to have work out with our, um... families.”

“Sure, I understand,” he said, and then jumped up and bounded back down the table to some of his other friends.

Hermione looked like she was going to start lecturing them, probably about their nightmares, but before she could get started, Professor Dumbledore stood up at the head table. The hall quieted quickly, and Harry and Ginny were grateful that everyone had stopped talking to them. They hadn’t had to deal with so many people talking at once before, and since they heard everything through two sets of ears, unlike looking at things with two sets of eyes, the noise actually did give them awful headaches.

“It has most certainly been an eventful year,” started the headmaster. “The school has not seen excitement like this in fifty years. But here we all are, safe and sound. I’m sure you don’t want to hear me blathering on, so let me say on behalf of the staff here at Hoggy Warty Hogwarts: Have a wonderful summer. And now, let’s eat!”

Food appeared on the tables as it did during the Sorting Feast, and everyone started filling their plates and talking to their neighbors. Harry and Ginny followed suit, filling their plates separately and eating alternately, at least when they weren’t taking part in the conversations around them. Seamus was complaining about several charms that he still had trouble preventing from exploding, Neville and Dean were laughing at him, and Ron was doing his best to steer the conversation towards professional Quidditch.

Once dinner started, nobody really pestered Harry and Ginny with questions while they ate. They assumed that Ron and Hermione had warned them off, and Harry’s friends — Ginny never really got to know them before the battle in the diary — had risen to the challenge. While they were grateful for their relative non-inclusion in the conversations, all of the chatter was only making their headaches worse. This, in turn, was quickly reducing their appetites to nothing.

Finally, they decided enough was enough. They had Ginny elbow Hermione to get her attention. When she looked at them, they whispered, “It’s too loud.”

Hermione looked around, noticed everyone who was talking, and then looked back and noticed them wincing — together — anytime someone made a randomly loud comment. She nodded, stood up and helped Ginny stand by supporting her elbow.

“Sorry, everyone,” said Ginny. “I guess I’m not feeling as well as w... as I thought. I’m going to head back to the hospital wing. Harry, how about you?”

Hermione had recognized the importance of their ability to talk to themselves as if they were two people and had encouraged them to do it every time they had the chance.

“I’m not doing too well, either. I was hoping to finish dinner, but maybe that’s not the best idea.”

“You do look a little pale, mate,” said Ron. “How about I help you back as well.”

Harry nodded at Ron and they stood up, joining Ginny and Hermione to leave the hall. Professor McGonagall caught Hermione’s eye as they turned to leave and raised her eyebrow. Professor Dumbledore noticed her distraction and also looked over. Hermione smiled grimly at them and nodded her head ever so slightly toward the doors. Professor McGonagall nodded back and turned to continue her conversation with the headmaster.

The trek back to the hospital took several minutes longer than the walk from the hospital. By now, they were unable to make any quick movements without aggravating their headaches. It didn’t help that random paintings were yelling at them the whole way back, questioning why they weren’t at the Leaving Feast with everyone else. A couple portraits were even sure that Harry, Ron and Hermione were up to another escapade. One of the paintings, an otherwise pleasant looking witch playing poker with a hinkypunk, went so far as to caution Ginny from spending too much time with the trio of troublemakers.

Once they made it back to the Hospital Wing and the large double doors closed behind them, Harry and Ginny sighed in relief. Ron passed Ginny’s hand off to Harry and went to Madam Pomfrey’s office while the others went back to their privately screened, magically widened bed.

“I don’t think we ever realized how,”

“Quiet,”

“It was in here.”

“Are you feeling better, now?” asked Hermione as quietly as she could.

“Not really,”

“But we’re not feeling any worse, either.”

“Even the hallways out there echo.”

They were finally at their bed and Hermione was helping them each climb in when Ron showed up with the medi-witch. She looked them over, cast a couple spells while they were climbing in, and once they were settled, Ginny curled into Harry with her eyes closed, she asked, “Mr. Weasley says you are having headaches?”

“The hall was just too loud.”

“We’ve had a while to get used to the seeing thing,”

“But we haven’t been around that many people,”

“In one space,”

“Since this all happened.”

“Indeed. Well, I think with six brothers, you will have your chance in just a day or two.”

Harry and Ginny winced, their heads throbbing further at the mere thought.

“Now, I could give you a potion for the headache, but Mr. Weasley here informs me that a different potion might be in order.” All four students looked at her in askance as she continued, “When was the last time you two got a full night’s uninterrupted sleep?”

The two students the bed looked a bit sheepish at her question. They didn’t want to discuss the dreams that woke them each night in a panic. The images of Harry too late finding Ginny lying in the chamber, never to rise again, or the ones of Harry, dead on the ground next to her, mangled and ruined by the basilisk night after night leaving them soaked in their hospital gowns. There were other parts to the dreams, too, from the diary, that they tried to avoid all thoughts of while awake.

Hermione, countering the embarrassment of her friends, looked in absolute shock at Ron. She was completely sure that he hadn’t heard their comment about nightmares earlier at dinner. That he had thought to mention it to Madam Pomfrey seemed against everything she knew about him and his penchant for letting his friends deal with their troubles in their own ways.

Ron noticed her shock, and so as not to interrupt the medi-witch’s lecture to Harry and Ginny, he mouthed to her, “Family.”

At once she understood and smiled at him. Madam Pomfrey, meanwhile, was anything but smiling.

“You have been through something awful. I understand that there are things you wish not to discuss, but if there is something I can help with, I need to know about it. Do you understand?” She pointedly waited until Harry nodded his understanding before continuing, “I will give you a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. It will put you to sleep right away and should keep you asleep with no nightmares until the morning. I will also be sending your mother a recommendation to keep some on hand.”

As she bustled over to one of her potions cabinets, Ron and Hermione said their good nights. They promised to be back in the morning to help them to the train and then made their way back to the Feast, Ron proclaiming he hadn’t eaten nearly enough and didn’t want to wake up hungry in the middle of the night. Harry and Ginny smiled at his comments.

Madam Pomfrey finally made her way back to the bed with two potions. She made sure they each drank one and stood watch over them while the potions took effect. She watched as they changed their positions while sleeping, ending in their clinging to one another. It was a phenomena that she had first seen when they arrived in her hospital two weeks earlier, and had noticed several times during their stay when she came to check on them shortly after their visitors left.

She once again found herself admiring the way her two patients were handling the situation. She had been the school matron for longer than she cared to admit. Her years dealing with her patients, mostly students but on occasion the staff as well, had done nothing to dull her enjoyment at treating people. She had dealt with patients of all kinds: shy, outgoing, stubborn, cooperative, and everything in between, and she had learned how to deal with each kind of patient.

But nothing in all her years prepared her for dealing with this. She was sure that if they hadn’t been as strong as they were, she would have broken down on their behalf. Each time they stumbled, every time the called for her in embarrassment after using the loo, any occasion in which they needed healing after attempting Miss Granger’s ingenious exercise, she offered them encouragement because it was the only thing she could think of to do. This type of condition was beyond her expertise, and she truly hoped Molly remembered her training after all these years.

She made sure their pockets were empty, standard practice when dealing with sleeping patients, and then cast a few monitoring spells in case the potions had unexpected reactions in her unique patients. After a final look at Harry and Ginny, she made her way back to her office for the evening.

  


* * *

  


It was morning when Harry and Ginny started to wake. They noticed immediately that their headaches from the previous evening were gone and were grateful. Then they noticed the second thing.

_No nightmares!_

_She said it was a potion of_ dreamless _sleep._

_Yeah, yeah. But we feel,_

_Good._

_We haven’t slept this well since before..._

They sighed and hugged even more tightly to each other. The hugging gave them a sense of peace neither of them had known existed. The comfort was even sweeter when the part of them that was Ginny felt the happiness from the part of them that was Harry that he had never felt before from a hug.

While they fought the compulsion to continue waking, they heard Madam Pomfrey walk up to their bed.

“Okay you two, time to wake up. Your friends will be here shortly. That odd little elf that is always checking on you -”

_Always checking on us?_

“- was kind enough to get a change of clothing from your things. He’ll need the clothes you’re wearing quite soon to clean them and get them into your trunks before they’re sent to the platform. So, get up!”

She uncharacteristically whipped the sheets off of the bed, and therefore off of the students in the bed, and left the room.

_Guess we’re getting up._

They reluctantly got up, did their thing in the bathroom, and then got dressed as quickly as they could. There were trays sitting next to the bed with small breakfasts on them. At least they were small compared to what they had been getting. Apparently, Dobby’s idea of a quick breakfast for his personal heroes was nothing less than a miniature buffet. A little bit of everything was crammed onto the small breakfast trays.

Their clothes had vanished shortly after they started eating and, once they were finished with breakfast, their trays followed. They propped themselves up on their expanded bed and did their rubbing-patting exercise. They had found that practicing it in the mornings helped them to be more aware of both of their bodies.

While they were unsuccessfully practicing, Ron and Hermione arrived. Hermione spent a minute or so watching them try her exercise while Ron just tried not to laugh at their failures. He didn’t want them to feel bad, but he still thought it was pretty funny to watch.

Hermione eventually interrupted them, smiling and saying, “I think you guys are getting better at that.” They stared at her like she was insane, so she continued, “No, really! You can’t do it yet, but your movements are less... I don’t know, unified. It no longer looks like two sets of two arms doing the same thing. It’s not quite four arms yet, but you’re definitely making progress!”

She seemed quite enthusiastic about it all which made both of them a little more happy with it, as well. During their practicing and Hermione’s encouragement, Ron had gone from amused to fidgeting. They recognized the look, both of them had seen it before. It was the look Ron got when he needed to do something he didn’t want to, not necessarily because he disliked it, but because he thought it would be pointless but had to do it anyway.

Finally, after Hermione was finished praising Harry and Ginny, he asked, “Um, guys? Are you sure you feel well enough for the train ride?”

They weren’t sure what he was getting at, but answered anyway, “We think so, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s just that Mum made me ask. She wanted to make sure because if not, she and McGonagall would arrange something. Mum was quite insistent, you know how she can be, or Ginny knows, or I guess you both do...”

“Ron, it’s okay.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“We’ll even tell Mum,”

“You were adamant about making sure we were good for the train.”

Ron nodded at them, “Thanks.”

“You trunks were gone from the dormitories when we came here. Everyone is supposed to be making their ways to the platform about now. Professor McGonagall said they couldn’t hold the train for us, so we should get going,” said Hermione.

“Right, but we have to do something first.”

They got out of the bed, something they had become quite a bit faster at during their two week stay, and made their way over the Madam Pomfrey’s office. Inside was the cozy little office they had seen a couple of times during their stay. The small desk covered with parchments listing various students’ treatments, the bookshelf with its volumes of Wizarding medical texts, and the two worn sofas in the corner were no longer completely unfamiliar to them. They had seen them several times when talking with Madam Pomfrey to avoid going stir crazy. They had also managed to confirm that the nearly unnoticeable door on the back wall did indeed go to her personal apartment.

They entered the office, Ron and Hermione hanging back at the door, and waited for the medi-witch to look up at them, which she did after a couple more scratches of her quill.

“Madam Pomfrey,”

“We just wanted... um...”

“Well, it’s just...”

“Thank you, for everything.”

“You’ve really helped.”

In her years as the school Healer at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Madam Pomfrey had become quite accustomed to students walking out with nary a word once they were released. There was the occasional student who gave their thanks, sometimes accompanied by a card or some sweets — and most of those by girls, she had noticed — but most often it was the parents who thanked her only after the more serious injuries were taken care of. That was why she was considerably taken aback by the heartfelt recognition of the two students in front of her.

“You are most certainly welcome,” she said once she had recovered. “What has happened to you two, well, I know your acceptance is what allowed it to happen, and I shudder think what would have been left if you hadn’t, but if there had been anything I could do... I will do anything I can to keep helping you.

“Minerva — Professor McGonagall — has told me she has devised a way for you to contact her. She knows how to get in touch with me over the summer. If you need me for anything, do not hesitate to let her know.”

It was an impulse Harry was completely unfamiliar with. Whether because of the family he was raised with or simply because he was a boy, they didn’t know, but it was a very odd feeling. Ginny, however, frequently gave in to the impulse when she was happy with a member of her family. Before the part of them that was Harry could form any thought past his confusion, they were both hugging Madam Pomfrey quite hard. She returned the hug, one arm around each of them.

Once they all parted, she said, “Now get going. You don’t want to miss the train. And have a nice summer.”

The foursome finally began making their way out of the castle. Harry and Ginny were still taking the stairs separately when they needed to go quickly, but there seemed to be no one left in the school to comment on it. When they finally exited the school gates, there was one carriage left waiting to transport them to the train platform. Professor McGonagall had told Ron and Hermione that if the carriage wasn’t there, they were too late and should just find her instead.

Ron and Hermione were ready to climb into the carriage, but when they turned around to help Harry and Ginny, they noticed the pair had stopped and were staring just in front of the carriage, blinking in unison.

“Guys? Is something wrong?” as Hermione, a bit concerned.

“No,” they said, still blinking.

“We just thought we saw something.”

It had seemed to them that something was flickering into existence in front of the carriages. Unfortunately, with the vision also came anger and contempt which immediately alerted them that it was something of Tom’s. They tightened their hold on each others hands and reached for each other inside themselves. The flickering in their vision was gone, and they couldn’t figure out what it was they thought they had seen.

_Oh well._

_If it’s his and not ours,_

_It’s not a big loss._

“You sure you’re okay?” asked Ron.

“Yeah,”

“We’re fine.”

“Let’s get going.”

Within a couple minutes, they had gotten on the carriage, made their way to the train platform and embarked the train. Harry and Ginny were ready to walk towards the rear of the train to find a compartment when Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled them instead towards the front. She motioned to them for Harry to pull open the door to the first compartment just before the prefect’s car, and they were surprised to see it was empty except for Hedwig and Scabbers in their respective cages.

“Professor McGonagall told me about it this morning. When students who are still under the care of the Hogwarts’ Hospital need to take the train home, these compartments are reserved for them. They’ll only allow patients or school representatives to open them. Madam Pomfrey signed your charts so that you could only be released into the care of your family. That way, this compartment would be reserved for you.

“Normally patients would need a chaperon or something, but since the only people who know about you and would be able to watch you couldn’t be on the train, the headmaster signed some forms that said we would be able to watch you ‘just in case.’ Your status as patients wasn’t listed as serious or anything.”

Harry and Ginny grinned and entered the compartment, sitting together on the bench on one side while Hermione and Ron occupied the other one. Eventually the train started and Harry and Ginny decided they were tired, so Harry leaned up against the side and then Ginny spread out along the bench, her head in Harry’s lap.

The motion of the train was lulling them into a light sleep when they heard someone stand up and walk to the door. They then heard Ron’s whisper to Hermione.

“Thing about the medical compartments is the trolley doesn’t come by here. I’m going to go find it and get some frogs or something.”

They heard the door slide open, but before it closed again, the heard a familiar voice yell out, “Weasel! So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Harry and Ginny bolted upright and nearly fell off the bench from the differences in their positions. They were reaching for their wands when Draco Malfoy appeared in the doorway, Crabbe and Goyle flanking behind him as usual. Ron had backed into the compartment in front of them not wanting to leave his family and friends alone to face Malfoy.

“Well, look at this, Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors. How did the likes of you get a place all the way up here. I know the Weasleys don’t have the money to buy such an honor,” he smirked.

“Malfoy,” cautioned Hermione. “You should leave now.”

Although she had not been able to get Harry and Ginny to talk about the fight with Malfoy since that first time, she still remembered the wall and was pretty certain that somehow her friends were responsible for it. One look at them now, their anger obviously on the rise, and she did honestly fear, not necessarily for Malfoy’s safety, but rather what might happen to Harry and Ginny if they were to attack him. Unfortunately, Malfoy didn’t know the story behind the wall, nor did he pay attention to their rising anger.

“Shut up! You have no room to give me advice, Mudblood!” He then rounded on Harry and Ginny, “And you, Weaslette. You have to be the worst failure of a Pureblood ever. Your family of Blood-Traitors aside, you at least had the right idea of killing the Muggle-borns. But you couldn’t even do that right. You’re pathetic! A failure! You and your whole family should just-”

During his rant he had not noticed their palpable ire. He had completely missed the wands that now resided in their hands, and he was only cut off when the spells hit him, having not heard their simultaneous yelling of ‘ _Stupefy!_ ’ The two red spells impacted with such force that he flew backwards into Crabbe and Goyle, knocking all three of them into the wall opposite their doorway hard enough to leave dents in the metal.

Harry and Ginny were stepping forward towards him when Ron and Hermione cut them off.

“Stop,” said Hermione, though her voice was shaky.

The one word, however, and the fear behind it, was enough to drive through their anger. They lowered their wands and looked at each other, finding calm and love and driving out the hate.

_We need to stop doing that._

_We shouldn’t have let him get to us._

They closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Just when they opened their eyes, another familiar voice demanded, “What’s going on here?”

Percy Weasley knelt over the three Slytherins and without waiting for an answer, revived them all with his wand. Draco jumped up out of the pile he found himself lying in, his eyes immediately focusing on Percy’s prefect badge.

“You! You’re a prefect, they attacked me.”

As Crabbe and Goyle lumbered their way to a standing position, Percy eyed Draco Malfoy carefully before glancing into the compartment where he briefly noticed his sister and Harry Potter holding hands and Ron and Hermione apparently trying to hold them back.

He turned back to Malfoy and said, “I think not.”

“Excuse me, Weasley?”

“I said, I think not, Malfoy. In case you hadn’t noticed, these are the medical compartments. Only authorized students and staff are allowed into them. I happen to have a list of those allowed into this one and you are not on it. And since you seem to be unaware, I will let you know that the use of magic to protect patients while on the Express is allowed. Now, before I report you for threatening not only patients, but a school Prefect, I suggest you leave.”

Malfoy glared at Percy and yelled into the compartment, “You’ll get yours!” before stalking away, his goons in tow.

Percy took stock of the compartment, looking directly at Ginny and then Ron before saying, “I do not like bending rules. However, Mother... _asked_ me to do what was necessary to keep Harry and Ginevra safe, but not to bother them with questions.” He looked directly at Harry’s and Ginny’s held hands before continuing, “I expect an explanation when we arrive home.”

Once Percy had returned to his patrolling, Ron muttered, “Git.”

“Ron!” yelled Hermione. “Percy just helped us, things could have been a lot worse.”

Ron simply sniffed and sat back on the bench, saying, “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”

Everyone sat back onto their benches. Hermione looked like she really wanted to ask a question but knew better. Finally, once her agitation had reached a fairly high level, Harry and Ginny realized what it was that was bothering her.

“What is it, Hermione?” they asked, already anticipating the question.

“That’s what happened before, isn’t it, outside the Headmaster’s office?”

Harry and Ginny sighed and nodded their heads. Hermione, now that she had the confirmation she was looking for, even if it wasn’t the whole story, surprisingly let the matter drop.

The foursome slowly settled back into the positions they were previously in, and sat in silence the rest of the way to King’s Cross Station. They dozed on and off, but after the excitement with Malfoy, none of them could really fall off to sleep. Eventually, the train arrived at its destination. There was a knocking at the door, and then it was opened by Percy.

“Come on, you lot. They’ve already finished offloading the baggage car and Mother is out there waiting.”

They all got up, stretched briefly — Percy was slightly confused as to both how and why Harry and Ginny stretched in unison — and then followed him off the train. It wasn’t hard to find the pack of red heads out on the platform. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing there with all of their trunks, and Fred and George were already there waiting.

Percy walked on ahead, shaking his father’s hand and giving his mother a very polite hug. The twins were standing behind him snickering and making rude gestures. When the rest of them reached the group, Mrs. Weasley quickly bustled over to them, hugging first Ron, then Harry and Ginny together which left Percy, Fred and George staring at them quite confused.

Finally she hugged Hermione, whispering in her ear, “Thank you for everything.”

Hermione couldn’t breath to respond, but hugged her back, anyway. Finally, they all grabbed their things, Mr. Weasley pulling along Ginny’s trunk so all Ginny and Harry had to do was work together to pull Harry’s, and they were let through the barrier in twos and threes by the same wizened old guard who had been there the previous year.

Looking around, Hermione spotted her parents, handed Ginny a slip of paper, “In case Hedwig is unavailable or something,” and then ran off to join her family.

“All right, everyone,” started Mr. Weasley. “Same routine as last year. We will catch Muggle taxis to The Leaky Cauldron and head home from there. Everyone follow me, and stick together!”

Outside of King’s Cross Station, they caught two taxis, loaded their trunks into the boots, and were on their way. Mr. Weasley took Fred, George and Percy in the first cab while Mrs. Weasley took Ron, Harry and Ginny in the second. Harry and Ginny were particularly grateful to their parents for the otherwise unnoticed division of their family.

Once they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, all the boys except Harry went to the Burrow via Floo Powder, followed by Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley then performed some Charm that neither Harry nor Ginny recognized and all of the trunks disappeared.

“I just sent them back to the Burrow. No worries. Now just come with me,” said Mr. Weasley.

They followed him over to the bar were Tom was cleaning some glasses.

“Tom, you have it here?” asked Mr. Weasley.

“Sure do, Arthur. Why not just use Floo Powder, though? Rest’ve gone through already, yeah?”

“Yeah, Healer’s orders. These two ran into some difficulties at the end of the year. Poppy wants us to limit their types of travel.”

Harry and Ginny were amused at how truthful this was without actually being the reason. They were still unsure of how they would react if they were separated over long distances, especially if it were sudden like with Floo Travel.

Tom grunted some type of agreement, handed Mr. Weasley an old butterbeer bottle and said, “Should go off shortly. Have a nice summer, Arthur.”

“Thanks, Tom,” he replied, then said to Harry and Ginny, “Okay, now just touch this and we should be home in a few moments.”

They put one finger from each of them on the bottle, and a few seconds later there was a feeling as if hooks had been suddenly jerked just behind their navels, pulling them irresistibly forward. Their feet left the ground and then they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; their forefingers were stuck to the bottle as though it was pulling them magnetically onward and then -

They hit the ground and stumbled, extremely disoriented, neither set of senses were able to work out anything. They were falling to the ground when all of a sudden Mr. Weasley was there holding them both upright.

“There you go. No need to fall over, now.”

They took a couple breaths to sort themselves out and then looked up at the familiar site of the Burrow before them.

_We’re home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah yeah yeah, I know this took much longer than usual. I really don’t have any excuse. The feast was a bit harder than I expected. But, on the plus side, I now have a beta. Hopefully, you’ll notice many fewer mistakes. Rest assured that any remaining mistakes are mine. Thanks TheWritingMuggle!


	6. Chapter 6

Harry and Ginny walked through the door to the home they had lived in their whole lives, sort of. They had taken a Portkey to the back yard and, once they were able to stay upright without their father’s help, entered the Burrow — their home — through the kitchen door. The feeling of ‘home’ filled them in a way neither had felt before. For Ginny, the Burrow had always been home, but now she felt the pure joy of having a home that she had never had before. For Harry, the feeling of home which had always been his was truly remarkable. The melding of feelings put smiles on their faces.

They weren’t surprised to see Fred, George, Ron and Percy sitting at the table and Mrs. Weasley standing by the sink facing the door. Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry and Ginny and said, “Ron and Percy told us what happened on the train. Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, Mum,” started Ginny.

“Just a bit...”

“Tired.”

Their statement was short enough, and spoken in such a way that those who didn’t know of Harry and Ginny’s condition were none the wiser.

Mrs. Weasley just nodded and said, “Alright then, why don’t you go up to your room and get some rest. You will find some potions by the bed. They’re not full doses, but I expect to find them empty when I come in to check on you,” she finished with a stern glare.

They nodded and looked around the kitchen. They were a little disappointed that neither of their other brothers was there. They had thought that they were in agreement with their mother that the whole family was going to be there.

Mrs. Weasley apparently figured out what they were thinking because she said, “Charlie will be in shortly by Portkey, and Bill is out back finishing up the wards. Everyone will be here, don’t worry. Now, go get some sleep and I’ll wake you before dinner. We’ll discuss everything then.”

They nodded again and walked out of the kitchen towards the stairs. Behind them they heard Percy questioning rather loudly, “You said ‘room’ and ‘bed.’ Why does it sound like they are going to the same room?”  
  
“That’s because they are, Percy, dear.”

As Harry and Ginny started to make their way up the stairs — together, for the practice — they heard their brothers mutter at the revelation, followed quickly by Percy’s yelling. They weren’t able to fully make out what he was saying, but they were able to pick out words like _propriety_ , _danger_ , and _scarlet_.

His rant seemed to be picking up speed when a voice they — as Ginny — were all too familiar with clearly announced over his, “Percival Ignatius Weasley! You will sit down and be quiet this instant!”

There was a loud thump and a scraping noise before she continued, “We are a family and so help me we will act like one! You will trust your father and me to know what we are doing! And you will do as you are told and keep your mouth _shut_ until we explain things this evening! Am I making myself clear?”

There was a mumbling sound followed a couple seconds later by more mumbling. Apparently, their mother wanted answers from all of them. By then, they had reached their room and closed the door behind them, when they heard someone stomping up the stairs and a door slamming.

_This might not be a good idea._

_Mum’s not giving us a choice._

_Professor McGonagall could help._

_But it’s our_ family _._

_Ron’s right,_

_Percy_ is _a git._

Deciding there wasn’t much they could do about it now, and that they were in fact quite tired, they looked at their bed. They hadn’t really noticed it when they first walked in — they were busy listening to their brother throw a tantrum — but their bed was larger than it used to be. It wasn’t larger by much, but it was definitely sized to somewhat comfortably fit two people. They peered around the room and noticed everything was a little bigger: the dresser was one set of drawers wider, the wardrobe was also half-again as wide, and the desk which had always been fairly large now had two chairs in front of it.

In the corner, they saw a perch that hadn’t been there previously; Ginny had never owned an owl of her own. They then noticed that Hedwig’s cage was up on top of the wardrobe and their window was open.

_Guess she’s out hunting._

They noted with a mild surprise that even with all of the larger furniture, the amount of open space in the room had not shrunk in proportion to the expanded furniture. It was less — obviously their parents’ magic could only expand the room so much in the already magically supported house — but not as small as they would have expected.

Next to the bed, on the nightstand, were two potion phials, just like their mother had said.

They sat on the bed and pulled off their shoes and socks. Next followed their school robes that they were still wearing and the Muggle jeans they had on under the robes. In the past, Harry would probably have left his jeans on, but after experiencing Ginny’s tighter-fitting jeans, they agreed that not wearing them to sleep was much more comfortable. They still had on their shirts, and Harry had always been comfortable just sleeping in boxers, but Ginny was now only in her knickers, so they had her grab some pajama bottoms from the dresser and put them on.

Once they were comfortable, they drank their potions one at a time and climbed onto the bed, Ginny first. They settled into their now customary dual hug and, with the potions doing their work, fell asleep within a moment. They never heard their door open, never saw Mrs. Weasley standing at their bed, tears running down her face. They had no idea that she took one of the chairs from the desk and sat with them for over an hour, and they missed it when she finally took the empty phials from the night table and left, shutting the door behind her.

It was several hours later when the sleeping potion wore off and they started to wake. There was a knock at the door, but as was usual when they first woke, they had little concept of ‘two,’ and so they both grunted an indeterminate response. The door opened and Ron’s head peered around.

“You awake?”

Harry and Ginny repeated their earlier grunt.

“Right. Well, Mum says dinner will be ready in about two hours, but she wants us all to talk before then.” When they nodded, he continued, “Bill came in not long after Percy’s little fit and Charlie arrived not long ago. Mum’s keeping everyone downstairs so you can use the bathroom or whatever without any problems.”

“What about Percy?” they asked together.

“Whaddya mean? Other than he’s a git,” he finished under his breath.

“Didn’t he go to his room?” they asked, again together, not having awoken enough to start speaking separately.

“Wha- Oh! No, that was me. It was either that or punch him. Anyway, Mum wants you downstairs shortly, so get ready.”

Ron ducked out, closing the door behind him and leaving Harry and Ginny alone once more. Glancing around, the saw Hedwig sitting on her perch, her head tucked into her wings, apparently sleeping. As they sat up, Hedwig’s head shot up and she looked at them, blinking. She hooted her hello, which they replied to, and then she tucked her head back down to sleep, again.

They were pretty awake by now, but were still having their usual sorting issues, so they spent several minutes making no noticeable progress with Hermione’s exercise until they were more aware of their two bodies. It was then that they realized they had another issue.

_The bathroom has only one toilet..._

_Let’s go see it, anyway,_

_We don’t have much of a choice._

Ron had told them that they wouldn’t need to worry about anyone along the way, so without changing into any other clothes, they exited the room and went upstairs to the bathroom. They took the steps together, something they were getting better at, but still had a long way to go if they didn’t want others to tell there was something wrong, and came up short when they found Mr. Weasley outside the bathroom.

“I figured you would need to use the bathroom before you joined us. Poppy told us about your difficulty, so I wanted to show you something.”

He opened the door to the bathroom and motioned them inside. Other than the bathroom being cleaner than normal, which they assumed was Mrs. Weasley’s doing for their homecoming, they noticed nothing different about the room. They looked at Mr. Weasley in askance.

“Here,” he said, handing them an oddly shaped black box.

Taking it in Harry’s hand, they looked at it. The box had five sides, the bottom was slightly convex, and the top looked suspiciously like a button, though when they pushed it with Ginny’s finger, it didn’t budge.

“It’s called a Doubler. They’re quite rare and only work on the type of item they were made for. This one was a gift from Dumbledore.”

“What does it do?” they asked.

“A Doubler does just that, doubles the object it is used on for as long as it is active on the object. This particular one is for toilets. The Doubler will create a second toilet as well as all the plumbing needed, which is why this is much easier than a simple spell.”

“Toilets?”

“But you said they needed to be made,”

“For a specific object.”

“Why did Professor Dumbledore have one for toilets?”

“Well caught,” praised Mr. Weasley. “I asked him that myself. He said something about never not having a toilet around again.”

Harry and Ginny looked up at Mr. Weasley to see him shrugging. He grinned and then continued, “To use it, just put it on the toilet, button up, and press it. When you’re done, press the button and take the Doubler off. It won’t come off unless you deactivate it, first.”

They put it on the toilet tank, button side up just as they were told, and pressed the button. In front of their eyes, there appeared a second toilet in the bathroom. The bathroom looked no bigger than it had before, but no smaller, either. Nothing seemed to have moved, or warped, or stretched, or in any other way changed the bathroom other than there was now a second toilet that somehow didn’t take up any more room than just the one had.

Together, they flushed each of the toilets to see for themselves that they both worked. Then they tried to pull off the Doubler, but sure enough, it was firmly anchored to the original toilet. Finally, they pushed the button once more, and the second toilet was gone. Once again, nothing had changed in the bathroom, but where there had been two toilets, there was now just the one.

“Wonderful,” exclaimed Mr. Weasley. “Keep that in your bedroom when you’re not using it. Since we want to keep your condition quiet for now, this way there will be no questions by any guests as to why there are two toilets in the bathroom.”

He smiled at them again, and they noticed an emotion in his eyes that they were having trouble identifying. It could have been love, pity or possibly even sorrow, but they just couldn’t tell. Unable to decide on what else to do for him, Ginny’s instincts took over and, just as with Madam Pomfrey, they were both hugging him. He reciprocated their hug, and they could feel him take in a deep breath. Eventually, they all let go.

“Okay, do what you need to and then change and come downstairs. We’ll all be waiting.”

They once more used the Doubler and took care of their business. They washed their hands and faces in the sink and then headed back to their room, making their way together down the steps, again. Once there, they had Harry put his jeans back on, and Ginny then swapped her pajama bottoms for her jeans.

Opening the dresser drawers, taking time to notice that all of Harry’s clothes were folded neatly and put away in them, they pulled fresh socks from the dresser and put them on. Ginny had never liked putting socks back on that she had already worn. As a result, she frequently ran out of socks, especially in the winter, and they remembered how she had become quite adept at ‘borrowing’ socks from her brothers.

_This is it._

_Why did we agree to this?_

_Mum will make sure everything’s okay._

They took several deep breaths to keep themselves calm, and then made their way downstairs, together once more, and into the kitchen which was resplendent with the scents of dinner in the making. Mr. Weasley was standing by the doorway and Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the table. Ron, Fred, George and Percy were likewise sitting at the table in the same spots as before. Also at the table were Bill and Charlie, who both stood when Harry and Ginny walked into the kitchen.

“Ginny!” they cried, and both came over to give her hugs.

While Bill was hugging her and mentioning things like being glad she was okay, Charlie noticed that Ginny was only hugging him back with one arm. Her other hand seemed firmly attached to Harry Potter’s hand standing next to her. She was much too young for a boyfriend, even one as famous as Harry Potter, and his first reaction was to take Harry outside for a good talking to. But the fact that their father was behind them, hands on their shoulders and seemingly okay with the situation, gave him pause. It also helped that their mother had given them strict orders not to comment on, ask about or act on anything out of the ordinary until certain things had been explained.

Meanwhile, Bill had finished hugging his sister and was talking now to Harry, thanking him for saving their baby sister, so Charlie took the opportunity to give Ginny a welcoming hug. He was quite surprised when he hugged her that she didn’t immediately hug him back. He didn’t notice that she had waited for Harry to finish speaking to Bill first. Taking this as one of those things that he wasn’t supposed to ask about yet, he kept his mouth shut. A quick glance at his father before walking back to the table told him that he had noticed, too.

Once the welcomes were done, Mr. Weasley guided Harry and Ginny over the table where they sat between Mrs. Weasley and Ron still holding hands, and then he sat on the other side of his wife. All the boys had been told that there was something important that they needed to discuss as a family, so they waited silently until one of their parents started speaking.

“I’m going to start with some news that I think will be welcome by everyone at this table,” said Mr. Weasley.

Harry and Ginny looked at Mr. Weasley in surprise, this was obviously not the announcement they were expecting.

“Bill, Charlie, as I know you have figured out, this young man is Harry Potter.” His sons nodded at him while the rest of their brothers grinned at their school mate. “What you might not know is that we in the Wizarding world were mistaken. Harry was not sent off to a happy home to live his life after his defeat of You-Know-Who. He was sent to live with his relatives who despised all things magical.”

At this pronouncement, Bill’s and Charlie’s countenances darkened. Neither of them had much use for bullies.

“I see you have figured it out, then. Harry’s home life was not a good one. While we have been celebrating our freedom, Harry, here, was a virtual slave in his own house. But, that’s going to change now. As of yesterday, all the papers have been dually signed, stamped and filed, and your mother and I are now the legal guardians of Harry James Potter.”

Ron’s face broke into a huge grin and he turned and hugged his best friend, slapping him on the back. Fred and George jumped up and danced around the table repeating their cheer from the beginning of Harry’s first year yelling, “We got Potter! We got Potter!” Even though they had never actually met him before, Bill and Charlie smiled at the prospect. The rest of their family who knew Harry was all happy, so surely this was a good thing.

Once Ron was done with Harry, Mrs. Weasley got up, walked to his chair, and hugged him from behind while they had Ginny turn and hug Mr. Weasley. They decided the brief separation was worth it.

“Thank you all so much.”

“I didn’t say it before,” said Mrs. Weasley, “but welcome home.”

The impromptu celebration wound down, and once everyone was seated at the table once more, Charlie spoke, “You said you were going to start with that news. That means there's more. And it’s what we’re supposed to not be seeing, and we’re probably not going to like it.”

Charlie was now looking pointedly at Harry’s and Ginny’s hands which were once again clasped and laying in plain view on the kitchen table. Percy was also looking at their hands. George and Fred had a slightly surprised look on their faces, in their excitement, they hadn’t even noticed anything strange. Bill, on the other hand, was looking at Ron who had pretty much no reaction to Charlie’s question.

“You don’t look surprised or upset like your brothers, Bill,” commented Mr. Weasley.

“Can’t really say I’m either. I knew something was up, you told us to wait for an explanation. I know it has to do with Ginny, there’s no other reason for her to have hugged her favorite brother-” he said this with a wink at Ginny, “-with only one arm. Harry is a part of this; she’s constantly holding his hand. And there’s no reason I can think of that Dumbledore would put him with a family that already has seven children. Let’s be honest, it might not bother us, but we aren’t exactly wealthy.

“Ron obviously knows what’s going on and isn’t angry. Ginny seems happy, if a bit worried. I don’t see anything to be upset over. You told us to wait, I’m waiting.”

“Fair enough,” responded Mr. Weasley. “I’m sure you heard about the problems at Hogwarts this past year. I know the three of you were there for it.”

When Bill and Charlie nodded, Mrs. Weasley picked up where her husband left off, “It seems that due to some... _outside_ influences, Ginny had a part to play in what happened. Now before you get too upset, we need to tell you what happened. I’m going to ask you to do the same thing we were asked when we were told this story. Please let us finish before you react.”

Everyone at the table gave their consent, and then spent the next hour or so listening as their parents, with help from Ron, Harry and Ginny, spelled out the events at Hogwarts. Their reaction upon learning about Tom Marvolo Riddle mirrored their parent’s reactions when they had found out. While Charlie seemed interested, perhaps a bit too interested, in the explanation of the basilisk, and he heartily approved of Harry’s method of its demise, his face paled along with his brothers’ when they finally learned of the results of the battle in the diary.

After the telling, everyone sat for nearly ten more minutes processing the story they had just been told. It seemed entirely implausible, but if it was true, and they had no reason to believe it wasn’t, the consequences were frightening.

Bill was the first to speak, “The same? As in they know the same things?”

“I’m afraid not, Bill,” said their mother. “The same as in they are actually now the same person. Each of them, Harry and Ginny, are both the same person. There’s really no other way to put it.”

“Dumbledore told us that by ourselves,”

“We are each two souls in one body.”

“But together, we are”

“One person in two bodies.”

It was the first time they had said anything of significant length. While none of the Weasley’s had any trouble following the pattern, not with Fred and George around, three of the brothers who had just learned everything were quite disconcerted to hear it out of the mouths’ of their baby sister and an unrelated friend.

Fred and George simply responded with, “Wicked.”

Bill stood up and walked over to them. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I just... I...” He pulled out his wand and asked, “May I?”

When Harry, Ginny and his parents all nodded, he cast about with his wand and muttered several incantations under his breath. At one point a little blue ball of light appeared over Harry and Ginny each. The tiny balls of light floated over their hands and joined into a much brighter blue light, and then quickly faded away.

“Fascinating. There is no magic between the two of them whatsoever. Nothing other than their regular, inherent magic,” he whispered. Then he looked at them and asked, “Have you tried casting any spells since this happened?”

They nodded together.

“And did you notice anything about them? About their strength?”

They nodded again.

“Interesting. That explains it, then.”

“What is it, dear?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

“Well, among the detection charms I cast, one of them tested for the presence of different types of magic. It’s relatively standard for curse breaking, and I’ve used it probably hundreds of times. But I’ve never seen it react like that. Based on what you’re telling me, according to the spell, the two of them joined like this are much stronger than either of them was by themselves. There’s no magic enhancing it or anything, they’re just... stronger.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded as if this were perfectly normal. Fred and George were looking at them calculatingly. Charlie’s expression hadn’t changed much since the story ended; he looked as if he were still trying to work something out. Percy looked almost indignant. But Ron was the next person to speak.

“The wall?”

Harry and Ginny nodded, their faces now downcast. It was clearly apparently to anyone looking that this was something they didn’t want to discuss, so the matter was let drop.

There was silence for a bit longer, and then Charlie asked, “Harry?” They both looked up at him. “What was my nickname for Ginny when she was younger?”

Carefully making sure that only Harry spoke, closing Ginny’s eyes to make it a bit easier, they responded, “It depended. Usually you called me... her, your little fireball. It was my fav... her favorite dragon. You said it fit our mischievousness. But when I... when we... she, couldn’t reach the cabinets, you called me a short-snout.”

“Mum?” asked Bill, looking at his mother with one eyebrow raised.

If any of the other members of the Weasley family were confused, Mrs. Weasley wasn’t. “Right now, and for the next several months at least, they will be unable to sort out who they are. It becomes most apparent when you ask them something about their pasts. They truly won’t ever be different, but hopefully we can get them to the point that they can recognize events as belonging to one body or the other. From there, their pronouns should start to work themselves out.”

All the children except Bill looked at their mother, extremely perplexed. This was not the reaction they were expecting from her. One of her babies — her only daughter — had been injured, magically hurt, and was somehow a part of a _boy_. They had expected yelling, denial, and any number of other reactions, none of them pleasant. But here she was, calmly talking not only about how they had adopted the boy, but clinically speaking on their condition. For one of the brothers, this was the wrong reaction.

“You can’t tell me you believe this?!” yelled Percy, jumping out of his seat. “Our Ginny — our _sister_ — is now a boy?! Preposterous!”

“Percy...” interrupted Mr. Weasley.

“No, Father! I...”

“You will _SIT DOWN_ this instant!” screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Percy’s normally impassive face was red, and it wasn’t a Weasley blush. His eyes, which only seconds before had been blazing in anger, suddenly had the look of a child caught in the act of doing something wrong. He dropped back to his seat with the thump, the force of his brief fall sending the chair scraping backwards across the floor several inches. Harry and Ginny noticed it was the same sound they heard earlier from their room.

Charlie, who was sitting next to Percy, stood up and joined Bill, who had not sat back down after casting his charms, in standing behind their wayward brother. Everyone at the table was glaring at Percy who managed to defiantly hold his head up while still looking a bit sheepish.

“You should know one more thing,” stated Mrs. Weasley in the quiet tone she used that brooked no argument. “Harry and Ginny weren’t going to tell anyone about what had happened to them. As Bill has showed, there would have been no magical way to tell. As it is, we are lucky that Albus figured it out. Once he was able to tell them what was going on, they realized that they would need help.

“Their plan was to tell their closest friends, one or two staff members to help them at Dumbledore’s insistence, and your father and myself. That was it; they didn’t want anyone else to know. I forced them into telling you — oh, they convinced themselves that they needed to tell their _family_ , but I forced the issue nonetheless — and it now shames me that their fears were justified.”

At last, Percy’s head fell and he stared at the table in front of him.

Mr. Weasley picked up his wife’s narrative, “Their family. As their family, both of theirs, we will help them however we can. And, Percy, if you can’t, or won’t, help them, then you will stay out of their way. Am I making myself clear?”

At Percy’s nod, Mr. Weasley finished, “One last item: Secrecy. This is a family secret. No one else will know. And just so that you are aware, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey from Hogwarts know. Harry’s friend Hermione does, as well. That is it.”

“Dobby,” mumbled Harry and Ginny.

“What?” asked Ron. “That barmey elf?”

“Indeed,” replied Mr. Weasley.

“It seems,” said Mrs. Weasley, “that Harry and Ginny managed to free Dobby from his service. He was so grateful that he has apparently become quite... well, dedicated to his saviors.”

Ron looked skeptical, which caused his brothers some unease, but his parents, not to mention Harry and Ginny, seemed fine with the idea. Not wanting any more drama at the table, they wisely decided not to comment. Instead, the sound of Ron’s stomach rumbling caused everyone to snicker. It was quickly followed by the sounds of both Harry’s and Ginny’s stomachs rumbling.

“Yes, well, I do believe that is our dinner timer. Everyone up, help set the table. Bill, Charlie, the plates and goblets, please. Ron, the silverware. Fred, George, there are clean napkins in with the dishtowels, and so help me, no funny business tonight. Percy, the juice.”

Turning to Harry and Ginny, she said, “Nothing for you to do tonight, dears. Consider it an official welcome to the family for Harry.”

Harry and Ginny watched their family set the table for dinner. There was joy in that for them. For the first time since they could remember, Harry had a real family. They were of course used to the sight; Ginny had been a part of it for her entire life. But for Harry, the thought of dinner with family in which everyone helped was almost overwhelming.

They had decided that anytime one of them felt something new that happy, they would gladly revel in the sensations. Happiness kept the darkness in them out of mind. They were, however, often sad that almost all of the new feelings came from Harry, that he had never had true happiness in his life until Hogwarts.

In good order, the table was set with plates and napkins, silverware and goblets and pitchers of juice and water. Their parents were levitating large platters of chicken and vegetables over to the middle of the table. While everyone sat down at the table, Mrs. Weasley brought over a small plate with slices of bread and set it down in front of Harry and Ginny.

“Here, you two. This might make things easier for now,” she said.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” they replied in unison.

There was a gasp at the table. All of the brothers stared at their sister, eyes wide and mouths open, shocked that their own sister would address their mother that way. Mr. Weasley simply looked on with a sad smile, while Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at them.

“You’re welcome. And Harry, you are now my son just as much as any of my other boys. Call me Mum.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright, dear,” she responded.

The food made its way around the table and everyone helped themselves. They ate and talked, and Harry and Ginny were included in the conversation, another new happy feeling for the two of them. Percy alternated between ignoring everybody and staring at Harry and Ginny, and the twins spent most of the time whispering to each other, obviously planning something.

Charlie watched Harry and Ginny curiously as they spent a couple minutes placing their chicken slices onto the bread their mother had provided for sandwiches, but once they started eating, he understood. Bill noticed where his brother was looking and smiled at his mother who nodded back as she ate. Ron was too busy eating to notice much of anything, but he had, after all, seen it already.

Eventually, Charlie finally spoke the question that had been on his mind watching his mother deal with his sister and Harry for most of the evening.

“Mum, you seem awfully calm about this.”

Mrs. Weasley sighed, and then explained to Charlie, “I think Bill is the only one of you lot old enough to remember. You see, back when I graduated Hogwarts, I was set to become a Healer. Goodness knows we needed them back then. But shortly before I graduated, I asked a question of Dumbledore that changed my interests somewhat.”

There was a yelp from Ron, and when they all looked at him, his eyes were closed and he had clamped his hands over his ears. Harry and Ginny just started laughing. Mrs. Weasley reached over and pulled Ron’s hand away from his ear.

“The _other_ question, Ron.”

This caused Harry and Ginny to laugh even harder. Ron, meanwhile, opened his eyes and looked at the table, his whole face turning red.

Mrs. Weasley continued, “Yes, well, I’ve apparently scarred your brother for life. The question I was referring to, that Ron, Harry and Ginny already know about, had to do with magical bonds. Albus was most helpful and quite informative. His answers lead me toward a great interest in bonds, and eventually in helping couples who were bonded.

“Once I left school, I applied for, and received, an internship at St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward where I spent a little over a year studying not only Healing, but also magical therapy for bonded couples. I enjoyed my work immensely. However, one week after I received my license, we learned I was pregnant.”

She stopped for a moment and smiled warmly at Bill, clearly remembering the day. “I worked while I could, and then took a year off to have, and start raising, Bill. As he got older, I started working again part time, but soon, Charlie was on the way. Eventually, by the time Percy came along, I had left Healing altogether to take care of my family.”

Her children were all staring at her now, curious as to how they had never known this about their mother. They were all quite interested in what she had imparted. Harry and Ginny, however, started to put things together. Comments Madam Pomfrey had made, the admonition from Professor McGonagall to not be too surprised at their mother, all started to make sense.

_Professor Dumbledore must have just,_

_Been trying to cushion the shock for her._

_He knew she would know how to handle it._

“Is that why you haven’t yelled at us?”

“And why you didn’t react to our sleeping together?”

Mrs. Weasley looked at them with a kind smile, the one she would always use to calm Ginny’s fears when she was younger, and said, “I will never yell at you for something that is a result of this. I’ll be quite perturbed at anything you do wrong as my children, have no worries, but don’t be afraid of messing up for what you are. You have a long road ahead of you and, even if I weren’t trained for this, I would hope I would do my best to help you through it as your mother.”

The impulse to jump up and hug their mother shot through them, but they caught it this time.

_Jumping and running around a crowded table?_

_Not the best of ideas._

_No._

“Thanks, Mum.”

“And thanks for the room.” they said.

Mrs. Weasley looked at them, an emotion in her eyes very similar to Mr. Weasley’s from the bathroom. They weren’t able to identify it exactly, but knowing their mother, she was trying to hide her true feelings. She had never minded change; she was very good at organizing through any surprises that came. And chaos wasn’t a problem, especially not after raising the twins. However, if any sort of change or chaos affected her children, she became adamantly protective. In this case, she couldn’t protect her children from what had happened, but she would absolutely do her best to protect them now that it had.

As quickly as the look entered her eyes, it was gone and she smiled, saying, “You’re welcome. Well, how about dessert? Boys, clear the table.”

Harry and Ginny watched as once more the family flew into the activities of setting and cleaning the table. Bill and Charlie cast spells that had the dirty dishes flying to the sink and stacking themselves. Mr. Weasley was sending smaller clean plates around the table and Ron, Percy and the twins were taking care of napkins and silverware by hand.

Once the table was re-set, Mrs. Weasley brought over a large treacle tart, a bowl of sliced strawberries, another bowl of vanilla ice-cream and a gravy boat of chocolate syrup. She had obviously planned for both Harry’s and Ginny’s favorite desserts. After a last spell cast towards the sink that had the dishes from dinner one by one cleaning themselves and setting themselves to dry in the dish-rack, she finally sat at the table with the rest of the family.

“This is your ‘Welcome’ dessert, Harry, and Ginny I guess. What would you like?” asked Mr. Weasley while holding serving utensils in each hand.

_We have to make a choice?_

_Why? Everyone is so happy to point out there are_

_two of us! We can have..._

“One of each, please?” they asked together.

He looked at them, grinned and said, “Of course.”

Putting down the serving pieces he was holding into their respective dessert dishes, he grabbed the tart and put a very generous piece onto Harry’s plate. Passing the tart on down the table, he then spooned some ice-cream on Ginny’s plate, covering it with strawberries and chocolate sauce, passing each dish down the table as he finished with it.

Very soon, everyone was eating their dessert and conversation had started again. Charlie entertained everyone, except his mother whom he managed to excessively worry, by regaling them with some of his more harrowing adventures with dragons. Bill told a tale or two from some of his more recent crypt jaunts, though Harry and Ginny were pretty sure he left the more interesting parts of the stories out, unlike his brother.

Percy several times attempted to impress those present with his academic achievements, but each time he started, his dessert would grow arms and ears, and covering its ears with its arms, the tart would attempt run down the table. This would send everyone into gales of laughter, with the exception of Mrs. Weasley who would glare at the twins, who in turn would loudly expound on their own academic achievements — or lack thereof.

Bill and Charlie, who were each in their own way trying to come to terms with their sister and Harry Potter, had both noticed how Ginny and Harry alternated their eating. They were impressed at how natural the new pair made it look, such that if they hadn’t been aware of what was going on, they would never have noticed it themselves. Harry and Ginny looked over to their brothers while they were being observed, but Bill just smiled and went back to listening while Charlie protected his own plate from the tart that had managed to get hold of a fork. It was wielding the fork, apparently trying to protect itself, and was attempting to use his napkin as a hiding place.

During a lull in the conversation, Bill turned to Harry and Ginny and asked a question that many of them wanted the answer to, “So, guys, I have to know. What’s with the hand holding?”

Except for Ron who was doing his best to ensure the complete and total demise of his dessert, everyone at the table looked at them awaiting the answer. Even Percy, who had so far done his best to ignore any hint of a connection between the two, looked on interestedly.

“Well, it’s, um...”

“Remember when we described the journal?”

“How everything hurt?”

There was a round of nods, so they continued, “Unless we’re touching,”

“It’s kind of like an echo of that.”

“It’s painful?” asked Fred.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not as bad as it was in the diary,”

“But it’s the same _kind_ of hurt.”

“It doesn’t go away like when you get a cut.”

“The cut hurts really badly at first,”

“But then the pain fades, even though it still hurts.”

Charlie asked, “And when you stop touching, the pain doesn’t fade? It just keeps on hurting the same?”

Harry and Ginny nodded.

Suddenly, Percy cried out in triumph, “But you weren’t touching the whole time. I saw it! You let go earlier-”

“To hug Mum and Dad.”

“Yes, we know, Percy.”

“We decided a little pain was worth it,”

“To express our thanks and love to our parents.”

“You do remember emotions, right, Percy?”

“Or is Penelope only interested in your brain?”

Silence ensued. Bill, Charlie and Ron were glaring at their brother, as were their parents. Mrs. Weasley looked ready to rail at her son; her normally placid husband was likewise furious. Their anger served in preventing them from immediately responding. The twins were the first to speak up, but it wasn’t what everyone was expecting. While everyone else was busy focusing on Percy, Fred and George had listened to everything else that was said.

“Penelope?”

“Ravenclaw Prefect Penelope Clearwater?!”

“That’s why you needed Errol!” they concluded before breaking out in laughter.

“Ginny!” complained the now red Percy. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

“I told my _brother_ I would keep his secret,” started Ginny.

“But you are certainly not acting like my brother,” finished Harry.

“I’m not your brother, I’m _hers_!” Percy responded, pointing at Ginny.

He then stood up and marched out of the room to the sounds of George and Fred singing, “Percy and Penny, sitting in a tree!”

Mrs. Weasley huffed quite loudly and exclaimed, “That boy, I swear...!”

But Harry and Ginny cut her off, “Mum, I think he’s feeling guilty.”

“Guilty?” she asked.

“Yeah,”

“I tr... um, we tried to...”

“Ginny tried,”

“To tell us, er, I mean, tell Harry,”

“About the journal.”

Ron looked at them both quite perplexed. “Is something wrong? You don’t normally have this much trouble talking.”

At the same time, Mrs. Weasley asked, “You tried to tell someone?”

Even though his own question went unanswered, Ron answered his mother, “Oh, yeah. Ginny came to Harry and me. She seemed upset about something, but Percy chased her off.” Turning to Harry and Ginny, he asked, “It was about the diary?”

They nodded, saying, “Yeah. We, um... She was going to tell us everything.”  
  
“But Percy ran us, me, and her away. He thought we were going to tell, uh...”

Ron picked up the narrative, “Percy thought she was going to tell us something about him. I’m guessing Penelope, and he ran her off.”

“So he probably only now realizes what we, argh!”

“Were going to say and now feels guilty.”

“That makes sense,” said their mother. “I’ll talk to him later.”

“Guys, are you sure you’re okay? You seem to be having a lot of trouble talking. More than usual.”

Mrs. Weasley looked on worriedly. “What I told the others about your speech was true as I understand it, but Poppy did indicate your speaking had gotten significantly better. Is something wrong?”

“No,”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“At school we only really talked with Ron and Hermione about stuff like normal.”

“It seems to be harder when we talk about the past.”

“Now, everything is just ‘we,’”

“Or mostly it is.”

“But like you said,”  
  
“It’s harder to separate us in our memories.”

“Well, we’ll work on that, dears. Why don’t you finish your dessert now and go entertain yourselves before bed,” said Mrs. Weasley before getting up and leaving the kitchen. They could hear her walking up the stairs, but she walked fairly quietly, so they lost track of her after only a few seconds.

Mr. Weasley looked at Bill, who was now sitting down. His son picked up on the message and started once again telling stories from his workplace. With Mrs. Weasley no longer present, he included some of the more harrowing traps he had encountered. Charlie apparently had withheld some escapades for his mother’s sake, because now his stories were downright terrifying. Fred and George regaled their older brothers with ‘hypothetical’ plans for pranks; although Harry and Ginny thought that several of the plans sounded familiar to rumors they had heard in school.

The conversation was lively, and everyone was trying to keep upbeat, but Percy’s reaction was an ever-present pall over the mood. Every time the conversation lagged, what was left of Percy’s tart would once again go running around the table and attempt to steal various eating utensils from their owners. This had the desired effect of causing laughter and encouraging the continuance of conversation.

Eventually Mrs. Weasley returned to the kitchen and was surprised to see everyone still there talking and laughing. She leaned on the door frame, smiling at the scene before her. Her family, minus her one son with whom she had just had a long, one sided conversation, was at the table laughing and talking. Harry, now a part of her family, was laughing in a way she had never seen before and it warmed her heart. Finally, she reluctantly broke up the gathering by announcing bed time.

“Okay, you lot. Harry, Ginny, Ron, it’s time for you to head on up to sleep. The rest of you help me clean up this kitchen before bed.”

Harry and Ginny made their way up to their room, followed by Ron who bade them goodnight before continuing up to his own room. They grabbed the Doubler and went to the bathroom, then went back to their room. Changing for bed much like they had just a few hours earlier, they climbed in and closed their eyes.

Their last thought before falling off to sleep was one of Harry’s. For the first time in his life, he had a family and a home, and they finally felt a true sense of belonging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the longer periods of time this is taking, but hopefully you’ll see the results in the fewer number of mistakes (thanks TheWritingMuggle!) The beta process pushes me from about 3 weeks to 5 or 6. Hopefully I can work on speeding up my writing a bit, but real life often interferes.
> 
> I’m thinking of starting a group for you all to complai... I mean, make suggestions and talk about the story. Keep an eye on my bio for the results.
> 
> Oh, and I couldn’t resist an homage to SockStealing!Ginny, may she reign forever! :) (I believe credit for that goes to Imogen)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, an update. I was angling to see if I could break intromit's or viridian's records :) Honestly, though, life has taken me for a loop, and between rl, writers block and more rl, this has taken a while. I have a bit more of explanation over on my yahoo group, so if you want to read all the sordid details, just head on over there. This isnt the most eventful chapter by far, but there were things that needed to happen. I hope its not too disappointing. And I would be remiss without thanking Janet here for her beta help. This is more readable for it. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Lastly, I cant guarantee quick updates, but I will do my best avoid another 10 month wait.

Harry had never before woken up in his own bed with absolutely nothing to do. At Privet Drive, his aunt and uncle would wake him up demanding chores, or his cousin would be loud and obnoxious just for the sake of being obnoxious. The only times there he was left to sleep in were when he was being punished, which meant he was hungry and miserable.

At Hogwarts, his bed was definitely more comfortable, but his room wasn’t just his — there were four other boys in there with him. When he stayed at the Burrow previously, neither his bed nor his room were his, and while it was infinitely better than the Dursley’s, and he was always made to feel at home, there was something deep down that kept telling him it wasn’t his.

For the first time they could remember, no one was waking them up, there were no tests to study for or homework to complete, there was no detention to be served and no Quidditch practice to hurry to. Ginny had experienced this often enough growing up, but for Harry, it was amazing.

_We get to keep..._

_Waking up like this._

_It’s wonderful._

_We’ll have chores eventually._

_Probably as soon as she realizes,_

_We can walk around separately._

But they didn’t have chores now, so they lounged, reveling in their lie in. Eventually, though, their stomachs rumbled. Deciding they should probably go eat, they opened their eyes and got out of bed. Throwing on a couple dressing gowns over their sleep clothes, they grabbed the Doubler, went to the bathroom, and returned the Doubler to their room before they went downstairs.

Upon reaching the kitchen, they saw Charlie standing at the table. He noticed them walk in and said, “Sorry, guys. Things are hectic at the reserve. My boss was able to pull some strings, and I’ll catch another Portkey back here in a couple days, tomorrow if we’re lucky. But for now, I need to get back.”

He looked at Ginny and walked over to hug her, but then he looked at Harry. He smiled and held his arms open as Harry and Ginny both hugged him goodbye. It didn’t escape their notice that the arm around Ginny’s shoulders was holding more tightly than the one around Harry’s. All too quickly in Harry and Ginny’s opinion, their brother let go and made his way outside. There was no pop of apparition, but they saw him through the kitchen pull something from his pocket and disappear.

As Harry and Ginny made their way to the table, Percy stood up from his place, made his apologies — something about a head start on his summer work — and left the kitchen. The duo sat down at the table and, after telling them that Bill needed to spend some time at Gringotts while in England, their mother placed plates of eggs and sausages in front of them. Ron was eating slowly, which indicated he had already eaten most of his normally significant breakfast, but there was still plenty to eat for them. It was clear that she had made this batch specially for them.

They were just finishing their food when their mother sat down at the table with them, having just finished washing Charlie’s and Percy’s breakfast dishes, and looked pointedly at their enjoined hands before addressing them. “Could you please try finishing your breakfast without touching?”

The question caught them off guard and they looked at her, seemingly uncomprehending of the request.

“Why, Mum?”

“I know you two are more comfortable when touching, but each time you do something _ordinary_ each day, I want you to try it at least once without holding hands. I’m concerned that you two may become so used to constantly being in contact, you will no longer be able to function without touching.”

They nodded and haltingly let each other go. They winced as they often did upon first releasing themselves, and Ginny switched her fork into her normal right hand. As they finished their breakfast, Ron looked at them and smiled sympathetically. He had been with them almost every time Hermione had made them practice something separate. They had explained back when they first started working on everything that being separated was uncomfortable, but it soon became obvious it was a little more than that. When they finally got them to admit that it was actually mildly painful, both Hermione and Madam Pomfrey had laid into Harry — no one had any doubts that it was his half that had withheld the information.

Soon after, they had all finished their breakfasts, the twins disappeared to their room, tiny pops and mini bangs echoing faintly through the house. Harry and Ginny, Ron and their parents spent some time talking about what Harry and Ginny had done to work on their condition while at school. They went over the various tasks Hermione had assigned and worked with them on, and they described the rubbing and patting activity they did every morning. Their mother listened intently as they related it all, stopping them occasionally to ask about their successes. The didn’t go into their bathroom difficulties — they didn’t want to discuss it in front of Ron, and it was obvious their parents already knew.

After they had been talking for nearly an hour, Ron stood up and said, “Well, guys, it’s the first day of our summer break. Why don’t we go out back and enjoy it a bit. Maybe go for a fly?”

They nodded in unison and were just standing up when their father said, “They’ll catch up, Ron.”

Ron nodded and went out the kitchen door and towards the shed where they kept the brooms. Harry and Ginny sat back down and looked at their father.

“We have something to discuss with you, Harry.” he stated, immediately cluing them in that this was something directly related to either Harry’s past or his current status as their ward. “As your legal guardians, we receive any and all legal documents intended for you. As such, one of the first things we were given to look over was your Gringotts statement.”

Harry and Ginny blinked at Mr. Weasley. Before Ginny, he might have thought he was going to discuss how much they were entitled to, not that he would have minded. If anyone deserved something extra from him, it was the family that had taken him after no more than a single meeting and a letter. If he had known that this would happen and couldn’t stop it, he would have given them his entire savings for taking their daughter from them. But now, after Ginny, they knew that even if the Queen of England herself offered them money, it would be a fight to make them accept it. It left them confused, unsure as to where their dad was going.

“Under Wizarding law, legal guardians of a Pureblood scion are incapable of accessing the savings of their charge.”

“Incapable of,”

“What?”

Mrs. Weasley smiled at them and clarified, “We can’t use your money, Harry.”

“Sure you can.”

“We, I can just gi--”

“We know you would gladly give us anything we wanted, Harry, but the money is yours. We won’t take it,” stated their mother.

Harry and Ginny were by this point extremely confused. Did their parents really sit them down to tell them that they knew about the money and didn’t want it?

Their confusion must have shown on their faces, because Mr. Weasley continued, “We won’t take it, it’s yours to use. But that leaves us a bit concerned as to how the money may effect your relationships with your brothers.”

Their mother picked up from there, “You will be able to buy whatever you need from your inheritance from your parents, but your brothers will not.”

“But we can...”

“No,” stated Mrs. Weasley with finality. “We will _not_ let money change our lives.”

They were not all that surprised at her adamance. Money had always been a big issue and a non-issue both at the same time.

Their father continued the back and forth their parents had been doing, “It’s your money, we’re not going to tell you how to use it, but we don’t want you giving money to your brothers. Or getting them things.”

_The twins,_

_Would definitely have used that as a loophole._

_They’ve given us an out._

“Um, what about,”

“Presents?” they asked.

“You can, of course, use your money to get gifts for holidays and the like. But, please, use some discretion.”

“So, um...”

“You wanted to tell us,”

“Not to give money to our brothers?”

“Pretty much,” answered their father. “That and, well, we wanted to get it out of the way before this afternoon.”

“Whats going on,”

“This afternoon?” they asked.

“When I was doing your laundry, Harry,” started Mrs. Weasley, “I noticed your non-school clothes all seemed a bit old? Not to mention quite a bit big for you.”

“Oh,” they whispered in embarrassment.

“None of that, Harry, dear,” she said. “They were all your cousin’s castoffs I assume?”

They nodded at her.

“Well, then, I’ll be taking you into town later this afternoon to go clothes shopping. We’ll get you some newer things.”

They knew from Ginny that ‘into town’ meant the town square of Ottery St. Catchpole. There were quite a few stores there.

_But, if we’re going into town,_

_We don’t have any Muggle money._

“Mum, what about-”

“Muggle money?” answered their father. “Not to worry. I exchanged some for you yesterday after we signed the papers.”

“But,”

“Whose money did you exchange?”

“Oh, right,” he responded. “Well, I left out a small portion of the law. You see, traditionally, a token amount is given to the guardians. It won’t really cover anything, it’s just a monetary ‘thank you’ of sorts. The old Purebloods figured money said everything — some of them still do. The guardians have the right of refusal; there were those families that believed accepting money would bind them in service beyond their guardianship. We were going to refuse, not out of fear, but we simply didn’t want your money. Then I realized that you might need some muggle money. You can figure out the rest.”

“So it’s really ours?” they asked.

He nodded in confirmation.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I believe your brother is outside waiting to fly? I put your broom in the shed with the others.”

They were up and on their way out the door, a belated ‘Thanks, Mum and Dad’ just before the door closed behind them. They walked quickly — running was still a bit much for them — towards the paddock and the broomshed. Inside, they saw their, well, Harry’s Nimbus 2000 up against the wall slightly apart from the twins Cleansweep 5s, several older model Comet 180s and what looked to be the remnants of a Swiftstick that had been in the corner for as long as Ginny could remember. They grabbed the Nimbus and were going to grab one of the Comets when they had a thought.

_We have enough trouble walking._

_Or the stairs._

_Or the bathroom._

_Can we fly together?_

_Let’s try._

_It’s flying!_

_We’ll try, then._

Harry put down the Nimbus and they both grabbed spare Comets. Closing the shed behind them, they made their way out to the paddock where they saw Ron up by one of the rings pretending to keep. He spotted them after only a few more ‘blocks’ and flew down to meet them.

Noticing the brooms they were holding, he asked, “What about your Nimbus? I know it was with the others in the shed.”

“We wanted to try flying together,” they responded.

“Doing things together is always easier if keep things as close to the,”

“Um, same as possible.”

“Oh, right,” said Ron, dejectedly.

It was obvious that he thought it a waste to the leave the expensive racing broom in the shed. Harry’s first instinct was to offer Ron the use of his broom, but Ginny had no such inclinations. She loved her brother, but she was thrilled that for once in her life, she had a material possession of her own that she didn’t have to share. This time, they chose to allow Ginny to indulge in her new feelings.

Carefully, they both got onto their brooms, wincing slightly when they let go their hands, and lightly kicked up. They floated for a few moments and, when the were sure they were stable, made to move forward. It was at that moment they realized just exactly how many minute balance changes they made while flying and didn’t know about. There were so many more changes to their balance than when they were walking, when they were going up the stairs and even when they were running. There were so many changes that were completely different because of their varying sizes that they fell right off their brooms.

Years of protecting his little sister caused Ron, who had been standing by for their initial attempt in case they fell, to quickly grab at Ginny. While he kept her from hitting the ground, there was nothing to stop Harry. They were having extreme difficulty sorting out Harry’s falling and Ginny’s not-falling and were unable to keep Harry’s head from slamming into the hard dirt. The impact caused them both to scream out in pain and Ginny pitched forward in reaction to Harry’s sudden stop, right out of Ron’s arms and he was unable to catch her a second time.

They yelped again when Ginny hit the ground and Ron knelt down between them, unsure of what to do. In frustration, he had just decided to run and get his mother when she was there, taking in the scene with a look of panic in her eyes. She immediately rushed over to Harry, who was the closer of the two, and fussed over him. She checked his arms, his legs and his head, her hands never stopping their movement. She quickly determined that nothing serious was outwardly wrong with him and repeated the procedure over Ginny, all the while glancing back towards Harry.

Eventually, Ginny started coming around and muttered, “Cut it out, Mum. We’re fine.”

“You’ll excuse me if I want to check it out for myself, dears. How are you?”

“A little dizzy, but better.”

“And Harry?”

“Dunno. Can’t move,” said Ginny.

Ron wandered over to his best mate’s body and, bending down over him, smacked him lightly across the face.

“Ronald!” yelled his exasperated mother.

“You guys feel that?” he asked Ginny.

“Not really. A little. Maybe,” she said.

“I think he’s just knocked out, Mum.”

“Hmm, yes, well, I’m sure we could have determined that without hitting him,” she admonished.

“But that wouldn’t have been as much fun,” he grinned at his sister.

“Prat,” said Ginny, sounding a bit more clear than she was just moments ago.

Mrs. Weasley pulled out her wand and cast _enervate_ at her newest son. The spell light flashed briefly and then both Harry and Ginny groaned.

“How do you feel now?”

“Dizzy again,”

“Head hurts,” they mumbled quietly.

“Yes, well, let’s look,” she said bending over Harry, once again busying her hands around his head. Her hands hit a spot on the back of his head and both Harry and Ginny cried out. She muttered a bit to herself as she turned Harry’s head to the side and examined the back of his head a bit more closely. All traces of her earlier panic seemed to have disappeared now that she had something she knew how to take care of. “You hit your head pretty hard, there’s a nice little lump forming here. I can take care of this in a jiffy.”

She pointed her wand at Harry’s hair and quietly cast _Episkey_. Simultaneously, Harry and Ginny felt their scalps get very warm. Just when they thought it was going to get too hot, their scalps became very, very cool. They shivered together and then it was over; the pain was gone. They each sat up but, since they were facing different directions due to the way they fell, they had a little bit of trouble figuring out where each of them was looking and they laid right back down.

_The sky is nice._

_We should just keep looking at it._

“Are you two okay? Is something else wrong?” asked a concerned Mrs. Weasley.

“Where’s the Burrow?”

Mrs. Weasley just started asking “Wha-” when Ron said, “Right behind Harry. Are you two sure you’re okay?”

Ron’s answer immediately clued in his mother as to why they were asking. “I’m sure they’re fine now, Ron. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mum.”

Mrs. Weasley looked around now that everything was okay. She noticed the brooms, and she noticed that they were the same brooms and not Harry’s Nimbus. “Were you two trying to fly together?!”

“Er, yes?”

“You can’t even walk up the stairs yet! What were you thinking?!”

“We didn’t really realize how hard it was.”

“Ginny picked up flying very quickly,”

“And Harry just _knew_.”

“We didn’t know there was so much to it,”

“Until we had to do it together.”

“Well you know now, don’t you?” huffed their still irate mother.

“Yes, mum,” they mumbled.

“Good. I don’t expect to see you two flying together until I tell you it’s okay. Or, if you’re at school, until your professors — the ones that know, mind you — tell you it’s okay. Am I understood?”

“Yes,” they replied together.

“Well, then, I will leave you alone now while I get some cleaning done. I expect you all back for lunch.” She gave a loud sniff that reminded them eerily of Professor McGonagall and made her way back to the Burrow, wand in hand.

Harry and Ginny looked at their brooms and decided that if they weren’t flying together, then they definitely needed the Nimbus. Now that they had their bearings, they both stood up, grabbed the matching brooms, and went back to the broomshed to exchange them for their broom. They came jogging back to the paddock, looking up to find Ron already back to his Keeping.

_We, er,_

_Harry should ride._

_No, he has before, it’s Ginny’s turn._

_I, we — it’s hard even in thought._

_Okay, it’s Ginny’s turn._

Harry sat down on the ground as Ginny mounted the Nimbus for her first — well, sort of — time. She kicked up and wobbled a bit. They were once again extremely aware of all the little changes to their balance that came with riding a broom. They then realized that one of their difficulties was seeing Ginny through Harry’s eyes, so he laid down on the ground and closed his eyes.

Without the extrasensory input, they found it much more natural being back on a broom. They took a look at Ron and shot towards him as quickly as the broom could carry them. They reveled in the feel of the wind whipping at Ginny’s hair. It was a new feeling for both of them as Ginny had never flown quite this quickly before. They laughed quite maniacally, Harry from the ground and Ginny from the air, while they pushed the broom to its limit.

Ron heard the laughter and looked down to see his sister barreling at her. He had seen Harry perform the trick before when watching Gryffindor practice, but he had never seen his sister do it and it didn’t register to him at that particular moment that they were one and the same. As a result, he dodged, which turned out to be a good thing. Ginny pulled up only after she passed the point where her brother had been previously.

“Oi! What’s the idea?! I could have bee-” he cut off when he noticed the look of absolute shock on Ginny’s face. He looked down to see Harry sitting up, staring in their direction with an identical look of shock. “What’s wrong?”

“We... I... was too late. We meant to pull up sooner.”

“Come on, let’s go down.”

Ron led his sister, who still seemed to be in a bit of shock, down to Harry, who once again had his eyes closed. The second she touched down, the broom dropped to the ground, its magic no longer in use, and Ginny gravitated to Harry like a magnet. They were sitting next to each other and maintaining a firm physical contact in the few seconds it took for Ron to dismount and walk over to them.

“What’s up, guys? What was that up there?” asked Ron.

“We don’t know. I’ve, er...”

“As Harry, we’ve done that before.”

“But the reaction was different this time.”

“It was slower.”

“Slower?” asked Ron. “What do you mean by that?”

“We wanted to move, but we couldn’t.”

Most people assumed Ron was bad at schoolwork. The truth was, he just didn’t like it. He wasn’t stupid, and he remembered most things if he was told them, repeatedly, as happened when hanging around Hermione for the two weeks that Harry and Ginny were recovering at school. Because of that, he quickly realized what had happened and pointed it out.

“What you mean is you tried to do something you knew _Harry_ could do. But it was Ginny that was flying.”

Harry and Ginny stared blankly at him.

“Really, I’m starting to appreciate how Hermione must always feel.,” Ron muttered, then continued normally, “You went through this with walking, too. And it’s why you have so much trouble on stairs. Harry’s center isn’t the same as Ginny’s. You have to remember which body can do what.”

“Ginny doesn’t have quite the same reflexes at that speed as Harry,” they said, figuring it out.

“Maybe we could try again?” they asked.

Their brother looked at them and nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face as he tried to figure out how to let them try again without their — or his — getting hurt. He looked at the ground. He had seen Harry make the maneuver before, but it was Ginny they were testing. He looked at a couple nearby trees, but they were probably just as dangerous as the ground. Finally, he decided that he really was the safest target to measure themselves by.

“Okay,” he started, “You’ll fly at me again, I’ll go wait in the middle of the pitch. Just... just make sure you swerve _up_ , I’m going to dodge down.”

He waiting until they nodded their agreement before he hopped on his broom, shot off for the middle of the paddock and waited, hovering. Harry and Ginny let go of their hands once more, wincing a bit, and Harry lay back down with his eyes shut. When they were comfortable on the ground, Ginny mounted the Nimbus. They shouted their approach and were off.

Through Ginny, they focused on Ron and aimed themselves directly at him. The distance closed at a ridiculous rate. They ignored Ginny’s decision to pull up until Harry’s instincts finally decided it was time, but they were instantly frustrated when Ginny didn’t move as Harry thought. By the time they veered, they were a half a broom length past where they expected to be. If Ron hadn’t moved himself out of the way, they would have clipped him at best, but more likely they would have collided directly on with him.

“Aaahhh!” yelled Ginny in frustration, a similar yell quietly mixing in from Harry’s direction away from them.

“Ginny, would you have waited that long to move?” inquired Ron, now hovering next to her.

“No, we, er... I wanted to pull up earlier.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Harry knew we could wait longer.”

Ron nodded at her and said, “Try it again, but pull up when you, Ginny, think you should.”

Ginny flew back over towards the side while her brother repositioned himself in the middle of the paddock. Harry and Ginny took deep breaths to calm themselves and then took off at Ron again. They briefly exhilarated in the speed, using it to relax their tension — something they had both always enjoyed — and as soon as Ginny felt it was necessary, they pulled up. This time, Ron had no need to move. They easily missed him; it was by a larger margin than they would have liked from Harry’s experience, but still cutting it close enough for Ron to feel the wind of their passing.

Ginny looked back at her brother, a grin on her face.

“Your body reacts differently on the broom,” Ron explained. “I’m sure if Harry were to try, you would find his instincts work fine.”

“Stay there!” Ginny yelled.

She shot back to the edge of the pitch and hopped off the broom, letting it fall the short distance to the grass. She sat next to her counterpart whose hand was rising and they easily intertwined their fingers. Even from his position out in the middle of the field, Ron could see a tension release from his sister’s shoulders. Their little session lasted only a couple seconds. Ginny then lay down on the ground while Harry hopped up, swaying for a moment while they adjusted to his body, mounted the broom and kicked up.

Once they were sure they were steady on the broom — a feeling they noticed felt much surer as Harry than as Ginny — they rocketed towards Ron in a blink. Despite the frustration in their minds, they followed Ginny’s instincts and pulled up. Looking off to the side, down towards Ron, they noticed they were nowhere near him. Harry widely looped around back towards Ginny and, without even slowing, took off once more for Ron.

This time, they suppressed Ginny’s instincts as they did at the beginning and waited until Harry knew it was time to turn. Ron didn’t dodge, but it was a close thing. He would later swear that he felt the tip of the Nimbus move a couple of the hairs on his head. Harry and Ginny both cheered jubilantly as Harry performed another loop, pulling his turn much more tightly than Ginny would have ever considered.

Ron saw Harry turn and quickly shot off towards the edge of the paddock area. Harry pushed the Nimbus to its maximum speed. Harry, and Ginny from the ground, gave a loud whoop at the freedom and speed of the racing broom, and did their best to catch up to Ron. In fact, Ron never stood a chance on his older model broom despite his head start. Harry passed Ron and finished the circuit, using Ginny as the starting point, a full four broom lengths ahead.

While Harry and Ginny once more swapped placed on the broom, Ron made a quick trip to the broom shed. He came back carrying the old ball — a Muggle football they now realized with Harry’s knowledge — that their father added Gripping charms to at the beginning of every summer. With Ginny now firmly on the broom, once again noticing that the steady feeling she had always felt was not near as comfortable as it had been as Harry, they spent the next hour or so throwing the makeshift Quaffle at Ron.

Eventually, they heard their mother calling for lunch. The trio stopped by the broomshed to put their brooms and the ball away, and then entered the Burrow through the kitchen. Their mother took a single look and, wrinkling her nose, ordered them off to wash up. Ron ran up the stairs and into the bathroom while Harry and Ginny made their way up the stairs to their room. They grabbed the Doubler and by the time they made their way up to the bathroom, Ron had finished and the bathroom was free.

They used the Doubler to take care of their business, and then stepped up to the sink to look in the mirror. Running their hands through their hair — a habit they had come to realize that they both previously shared — they felt Ginny’s revoltion at their grimy hair. It was something that never bothered Harry before, but together they felt the need to shower off the dirt and sweat from their morning activities.

Stripping off their clothes, Harry’s body reacted once again in the way that boys’ bodies do as they enter puberty and see naked girls.

_Will we ever stop this?_

_After all, we are the same..._

_Is it normal to react like this to one’s self?_

_Malfoy probably does..._

_Not an image we needed._

_Remember, according to the twins,_

_This reaction happens often._

They shuddered while they remembered the conversation Ginny had accidentally heard through the twins bedroom door several years ago. Apparently the twins were so close that they talked about experiences that Ginny never wanted to think about her brothers doing. At the time, she thought she would be forever scarred. But now it turned out to be quite helpful as Harry never had anyone to talk to about those things. It still unsettled them to think of that conversation, helpful or not.

_It just feels weird reacting like this-_

_To ourselves, yeah._

With an unconscious blush, they proceeded to shower. The part of them that was Ginny discovered when they first showered together back in the infirmary that it was extremely handy having another body with to wash their hair. Meanwhile, Harry had never before realized how nice it could be to run his fingers through long hair, or how good it felt to have that done to him. The sensations helped to relax them from their recurring embarrassment.

After their relatively quick shower, they dried off and wrapped the towels around themselves. Once back in their room, they put on clean clothes, noticing that Ginny was low on socks and Harry was now wearing his last pair. They stowed the Doubler in their desk drawer and made their way down to the kitchen, mentally arguing the whole way as to whether it was worth it to try and steal Charlie’s socks.

An answer had not been decided upon when they finally reached the kitchen. When they sat down, their mother looked at them and then gave a disdainful sniff at Ron who was already sitting and eating a sandwich.

“At least _someone_ knows the proper way to wash up,” she muttered as she grabbed several more sandwiches and placed them in front of the pair. She quickly followed with two glasses of pumpkin juice. “Don’t take too long, dears. We’ll be heading into town shortly to get you new clothes. Your father had to check in at work, but he will be home later and will gather your brothers to meet us in town for dinn-”

She was cut of by a high pitch whining followed by a very odd sounding, wet explosion. “Oh,” she muttered, “for crying out... Fred and George Weasley!” she bellowed. “So help me, if you have those potions out again...!”

Their mother stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs leaving Harry and Ginny and Ron staring across the table at each other. After a few moments, they heard a door slam and they broke down in laughter. It took a minute to catch their breath, but once they did, they continued to each their lunch. When Harry and Ginny finished their sandwiches, they realized they were still hungry. Knowing their mother had probably made several extra, they made to stand up, but then Ron deposited another sandwich for each of them on their plates.

“Er, thanks, Ron,” they mumbled, looking over at him.

“No problem,” he responded with a grin. As he quickly finished his own sandwich he had grabbed along with theirs, he said, “Have fun shopping. I know Ginny enjoys it, but as Harry’s mate, I’m sorry.”

They looked up at him, having just finished their own sandwiches, and looks of confusion and indignation battled for dominance on their faces. This caused Ron to laugh, and Harry’s confusion was replaced with its own indignation, albeit for a different reason.

“Prat!” they yelled, throwing their balled up napkins at their brother.

Ron jumped out of his chair, still laughing, and skipped around his mother who was just coming back into the kitchen.

“No running in the house, Ron!” She muttered a few unintelligible phrases under her breath and then smiled at the remaining occupants of the kitchen. “So, are you ready?”

Harry and Ginny nodded, stood up and walked over to the door where Ginny usually kept her everyday trainers. They were a bit perplexed to find them not there, Ginny always kept at least a pair of shoes or sandals there.

“You didn’t take them off when you came in,” Mrs. Weasley prompted.

Sighing, they realized that Harry always kept his shoes in his room so that Dudley wouldn’t get to them. They turned back into the house to find their mother standing there, holding two pairs of shoes.

“Don’t get used to it,” she said.

They grinned and thanked her, and then put on their trainers. Once they were ready, they were accompanied by their mother as they walked into Ottery St. Catchpole. They approached the town square itself, and their mother stopped them and made sure they understood that they couldn’t hold hands.

“I know it’s painful, but you need to get used to getting around in public separately.”

“We know, Mum,”

“We’re fine.”

“We spent the whole morning apart.”

“Fine. Good,” she replied. “We’ll go slow. You’ll be walking in public around people. I want you to be careful.”

“Yes, Mum,” Harry and Ginny replied while rolling their eyes.

They knew what to expect, shopping for clothes was not a new experience for Ginny, but once again, it was a very new experience for Harry. They were happy that he had a chance to go and buy things just for them. There was even a part of them from Ginny that relished the thought of buying something brand new, not off the clearance racks or second hand stores.

Mrs. Weasley initially balked when Harry and Ginny went to enter one of the nicer clothing stores, but when they reminded her that it was their money to spend, she relented. They shopped for Harry first, and with Ginny’s knowledge of fashion, they had him looking like a completely different boy than the one that had asked for directions on Platform 9¾. From Ginny’s experiences, it was an odd experience to try something on — even if it was as Harry — and like it or not. She was used to having to try clothes on multiple times in several sizes and colors before she found something she liked. Of course, the fact that the clothing was new and not off of a second-hand or clearance rack was something both of them were excited about.

Ginny sat outside the changing rooms while Harry tried on clothing. Mrs. Weasley had tried to have her look, or at least pretend to look, for clothes so the time wasn’t wasted, but quickly realized her mistake when her daughter stumbled into a rack of sun dresses and a loud yelp came from the changing rooms. She immediately apologized to her children, commenting that there were things that she, too, would have to get used to and that it would take time. She then helped Ginny over to the waiting chairs as Harry came out, rubbing his head, to show their mother the slacks and shirt combination Ginny loved.

It was odd to them, however, to notice the difference between trying on clothes as Harry and trying on clothes as Ginny. Unlike Harry’s like/not like attitude, when they were trying on Ginny’s clothes, the feelings they had been expecting before came rising to the surface. The part of them that was Harry had a fair amount of trouble figuring out why every time they tried on something for Ginny, something about it seemed wrong. It took nearly three times as long to find clothing they liked for Ginny than it had for Harry.

Finally, after three or so hours in the store, they had clothing for both of them that they were happy with. They paid a the register, an exciting prospect for both of them handing over the large amount of money, and made their way out of the store, both holding bags of clothings to split the weight of the load. Mrs. Weasley ushered them down the road and into a small shoe store.

“You should both get some new trainers, I know Ginny is outgrowing hers, and I need new house slippers while we are here,” she explained.

Over the next hour, they picked up pairs of trainers for both Harry and Ginny, some yard sandles, and Mrs. Weasley’s house slippers. They also picked several other various pairs of shoes for Ginny, which once again left them confused as to why they only felt the urge to do it for her and not Harry, and a reproving look from their mother when she saw it all. Once at the register, Mrs. Weasley dropped several packages of socks onto their pile with a pointed stare at Ginny. They managed to keep a straight face, though both of them wanted to blush and laugh.

Following the shoe store, they made their way further into the town square where they found their father and brothers waiting outside a restaurant all wearing Muggle clothing, although their father was still a bit conspicuous with his purple plaid slacks and cornflower blue, Hawaiian button down. It was an Italian restaurant that Ginny could remember eating at once, years ago, for Percy’s birthday. Their family hardly ever ate out for obvious reasons.

As they approached the rest of their families, George was finishing a story that had Fred and Ron laughing, Percy glaring at them as if he had just bit into a lemon, and their father grinning. When Mr. Weasley looked away and noticed them, his smile faltered for a moment, which caused Harry and Ginny to look at their mother, who’s lips were pursed.

“Come on, Molly,” he said as soon as they joined the group, “Please?”

The statement surprised Harry and Ginny who thought that he sounded like a child with the question.

_Child?_

_Muggles._

_But it’s just a restaurant._

“Fine,” stated Mrs. Weasley with a sigh. She glanced at Harry and Ginny and added, “But so help me, you better not pester them. It’s been a long day and I expect them to eat.”

“Thanks, dear,” he responded with a grin before leading the rest of his family in.

Once they got inside, one look told Harry and Ginny all they needed to know about their father’s excitement.

_It’s an open kitchen._

_We can see all the appliances._

_This should be,_

_Interesting._

After reading the menus and placing their orders with the very nice Italian waitress, Mr. Weasley started asking questions all about the devices he could see in the kitchen. He was rather disappointed with the brick oven being that it was a simple wood fire oven — he had apparently been hoping that some sort of eckeltricity was involved with the pizza making device — but the twelve-burner, gas range fascinated him for the full ten minutes it took for their salads to arrive.

He was positive that there had to be some sort of magic involved with getting the gas to the stove, and likewise to keep the stove from exploding. Apparently, he had tried to magic gas to a ‘camp stove’ he called it, but had only succeeded in blowing up half the shed. Harry and Ginny answered as many questions as they could about how it worked, but Harry had never been too sure even at his Aunt Petunia’s as to how the gas got to the stove.

Once the salad and breadsticks arrived, Mr. Weasley backed off his questioning, but once they were finished with their salads and were waiting for their meal, he picked right back up with the dishwasher. They couldn’t see that part of the kitchen from where they sat — only the cooking part was kept open, the cleanup part was located behind a set of swinging doors — but he was certain that all restaurants used one and wanted to know everything his children could tell him about one.

Eventually, they were rescued by the arrival of their dinner. Over their various dishes of pasta, ravioli and chicken parmigiana, normal conversation picked up wherein Mr. Weasley questioned them about what they had done during the day. They started to describe their discoveries with the brooms, but they were quickly quieted by their father who reached under the table and muttered a spell the were unable to catch.

“There, no one will be able to make out what we are saying unless they walk right up to the table. So, you were saying?”

Harry and Ginny restarted their story about their experiences with the brooms, which prompted another promise to not try flying together again until they were told it was okay. They described their discoveries about their reactions on the Nimbus. Their mother pursed her lips several times as they went into detailed accounting of their high-speed breaking maneuvers, but she kept quiet as she listened. They were also surprised to notice that Percy was also paying extra close attention to what they said, as if he were studying for an exam.

After their stories of Quidditch, their mother proceeded to ask them about their shopping habits. “I noticed that when we were shopping, you both seemed to shop like most boys do for Harry and yet bought as much as most girls do for Ginny.”

“We, uh,”

“We noticed that, too.”

“It just felt... we’re not sure.”

“It just felt right.”

“Harry didn’t really want a lot of clothes,”

“Just enough to call his own.”

“But Ginny really wanted everything to look right.”

“Even Harry felt it when something looked wrong.”

“Interesting,” commented their mother. “Apparently, muscle memory isn’t the only thing that remains. This might give us something to work with.”

When the check came, Mrs. Weasley looked at it first and sighed once more before passing it to her husband. Mr. Weasley looked at it and calmly pulled out a small wad of Muggle pounds, counting them out silently. When he was satisfied they had enough, Harry and Ginny noticed that only a couple notes remained and were about to say something when their father met Ginny’s eyes. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t make any clear movements, but they could read the meaning just as well: _No, you will_ not _pay or even make the offer_.

Fred and George were busy catapulting sugar packets across the table at Ron using their spoons, so none of the three of them noticed. Harry and Ginny saw that Mrs. Weasley noticed the exchange as she had been watching the pair of children very carefully all day, but what really surprised them was Percy, who looked like the answer to the extra credit question was being hinted at, if only he could make it out. They turned their heads to look right at him and he met each of their eyes in succession, smiling at them. It was a smile they hadn’t seen in years, Harry had never seen it at Hogwarts. Quickly after his smile, though, his face quickly became once more the proper mask that it had been for several years.

It was a pleasant evening and the family made their way together back to the Burrow. They talked and joked, and once out of town, Ginny and Harry held hands again. They received a look from their mother, but she didn’t say anything. Eventually, they reached the Burrow and Molly ordered Harry and Ginny to bed after their long day. They were going to argue, except left to their own devices, they were going to head to their room and sleep anyway, so it really wasn’t worth arguing.

Harry and Ginny woke up the following morning and went through their usual routine: bathroom, shower, rubbing and patting and getting dressed. They were unsurprised to find all their new clothes cleaned and folded in the clothes dresser or hanging the the wardrobe. They made their way downstairs to a worrying scene in the kitchen. Their father was eating his breakfast, sighing at not much of anything while their mother clanked and banged around the counter, muttering to herself as she did when she was upset with no immediate outlet. Percy was glaring at a copy of the Daily Prophet indignantly. He saw them enter and, after meeting each of their inquisitive stares and revealing nothing, threw the paper down on the table and stalked out.

Percy’s movement caught the attention of their distracted parents and they both focused on the duo. Mrs. Weasley looked angry and worried — always an unsettling sign — while their father merely looked at them in apology.

“Read,” he said, indicating the Prophet on the table. It was opened to the second page where they saw what had upset their family.

_**Potter Placed with Poor Purebloods** _ **  
by Brody Blintwhick**

_The Daily Prophet has learned through official Ministry documents that The-Boy-Who-Lived, only recently returned to our world after ten years, since his defeat of You-Know-Who, has now been officially and legally placed with the family of Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. Further investigation has shown that the Weasley property in the town of Ottery St. Catchpole has undergone some warding enhancements. It is well known that Muggle Repelling charms are standardly allowed with Wizarding households in Muggle towns, and certain access wards that limit or control Apparition and Floo travel are standard issue for higher level Ministry employees, but it seems the Weasley household now contains several wards that seem to be beyond the financial capabilities of the single income family of nine — now ten — seven of whom live there._

_While we at the Prophet are glad to see precautions taken for the security of the Wizarding World’s most notable, underage celebrity, we were forced to wonder for what reason the Potter scion was placed with the Weasleys and why that particular family was chosen. Inquiries through official channels were left unanswered. However, through our own probes, we have discovered several facts that have raised further questions._

_It seems that while in residence of his mother’s Muggle sister, one Petunia Dursley, her family maintained that their nephew was troubled and attended a school known as St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. No documents could be found of any such school in either the Wizarding or Muggle records. When approached for an interview about the childhood of The-Boy-Who-Lived, they loudly called this reporter a freak before slamming the door. While we hope that it was simply a bad day for the Dursley family, we doubt it. The quick glimpse into their foyer showed many pictures of their own son and none of their nephew, and so we are left to wonder at Potter’s upbringing._

_In the meantime, rumors continue to surface about the cause of the strange events at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this past school year. Events that, if rumor is to be believed, included petrification of several students and the unfortunate loss of Gilderoy Lockhart as their professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Though all students were accounted for at the end of the year and none were noticeably petrified, Lockhart is now a resident of St. Mungo’s Hospital’s Janus Thicky ward for patients with long-term and permanent spell damage. Other reports show that after the bizarre events, both Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley, the youngest and only female child of the family, were in the school’s hospital wing for the last couple weeks of the semester. There have been whispers that You-Know-Who was somehow involved. Again, inquiries though official channels went unanswered._

_It would be irresponsible for this publication to make random accusations and suppositions, but these events do not seem to have any answers forthcoming. What was the upbringing of the Boy-Who-Lived truly like while we in the Wizarding world celebrated his victory? What happened at Hogwarts this past year, and how was Harry Potter involved? And most importantly, why does Harry Potter, who will become a fairly wealthy wizard when he comes of age in several years, now reside with one of the poorest Pureblood families in Britain? Rest assured that as we at the Daily Prophet discover these answers, you, our readers, will find out._

Harry and Ginny stared at the article in front of them. It practically accused them of the events at Hogwarts and then went on to call their family gold-diggers. They didn’t know what to think.

“It’s going to be okay,” said Mr. Weasley. “I have contacts in the Ministry. We can make sure certain answers make their way to the Prophet in such a way as to protect you and your... condition.”

Their attention moved from the paper to their father. He smiled supportingly at them, nodding as he did so.

“I’m thinking trust is a relatively new experience for you?” he asked them while looking right at Harry. He took their blank stare as confirmation and continued, “Your mother and I thought as much. We didn’t really want you to know this, but we didn’t want to violate your trust, either, by hiding it from you. We would rather you find out from us than someone else. We will take care of it, don’t worry.”

As he finished, plates of food appeared in front of the chairs they were standing behind. They turned their attention to their mother who smiled reassuringly at them. “It will be okay, you’ll see. Now, eat up and go outside. Enjoy the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my American brethren, I just want to note that by football, I meant soccer ball :)


	8. Chapter 8

It had been over a week since their outing to Ottery St. Catchpole proper. Harry and Ginny had been allowed lie-ins everyday so far, and they were greatly enjoying the morning freedom. That freedom, however, was allowed them for their hard work.

Molly had started them on an informal regimen, insisting that they do activities in certain ways to help them begin the coping process. She made sure they spent at least ten minutes each morning working on Hermione’s rubbing/patting exercise. She even watched them yesterday morning, offering occasional words of encouragement as well as suggestions to their thoughts. She surprised them with her comment as she left them to get ready for the day.

“From what Ron and Madam Pomfrey described to me, you have definitely improved. Keep it up. I’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready for breakfast,” she said, just before she closed the door behind her.

Harry and Ginny stared at the closed door, shocked and in thought. Carefully remembering their first attempt that had ended so badly for Harry, they realized that perhaps, just maybe, in spite of all their frustration with the exercise, they were getting better. They gave it one more try by themselves, paying attention to what they were like while doing it rather than concentrating on doing it. The lack of concentration on their part meant that they lost their pattern after only a second or so, but that meant that when they concentrated, they were lasting for longer. They smiled as they realized that this was, indeed, an improvement.

Having already been up to the bathroom, one of the first things they did upon awakening, they went downstairs for breakfast. Also a part of their daily routing was taking the stairs together. The only times they were allowed to take them separately anymore was either when they were in a hurry — for instance when they were going to the bathroom — or when their mother sent only one of them off to do something, which she was doing with increasing regularity for increasingly time intensive tasks. As a result, getting from their second floor bedroom down to the kitchen could take nearly five minutes.

The first few times they tried, only a couple days after their outing, their mother insisted that someone be with them as they descended — or ascended — the stairs. This was proven a good thing as they were caught nearly a dozen times on each of the attempts at the short trip. Eventually, though, they learned how to pace themselves slowly enough that they could do it themselves. On this morning, they made the trip in three minute, their revelation at the improvement on their waking up exercise lifting their spirits enough to try harder at the stairs.

When they entered the kitchen, their mother looked up from her pan and smiled. “You made good time this morning. Wonderful! Ah ah... Opposite sides this morning,” she admonished.

Harry and Ginny simultaneously groaned as they disengaged their held hands and sat on opposite sides of the table. This was yet another part of their regimen as prescribed by their mother. Every other day, they had to eat breakfast and lunch apart. It was not her intention to depress or frustrate the couple, which is why it was only every other day. And they were allowed together at dinner as it was easier than making exceptions for hard days, of which there had been a few. They were more than welcome to sit apart for any other meal they wanted, but had not chosen to do so yet.

They were getting antsy, which they found was common for them if forced to be apart with nothing to do. Their breakfast wasn’t ready since they arrived a couple minutes early. Finally, Harry stood back up and began grabbing plates, silverware and glasses. He was putting the last of the items on the table when Mrs. Weasley spoke again.

“Keep your eyes open next time, Ginny.”

It took them a moment to realize that Ginny’s eyes were, in fact, closed. They opened Ginny’s eyes and saw that their mother still had her back to them while finishing what smelled like sausage. They shook their heads, only to quickly close Harry’s eyes at the bizarre view that it caused. It was moments later that Mrs. Weasley put their breakfast on the table: scrambled eggs, sausage and pancakes. All of the food required utensils.

Eating with forks and knives was something they had grown used to, and all things considered, was almost as natural to them as it was before they joined. Of course, ‘almost’ still left room for mistakes, which apparently their mother wanted to clear up.

“So, what are your plans for today?” she asked.

Ginny and Harry tried to respond, only to have Harry spit out some of his eggs and Ginny end up cutting nothing on her plate, causing an awful metal-on-ceramic screech. They both cringed at the onslaught of noise and dropped their utensils. Mrs. Weasley simply continued to stare at them, her question still on her face.

“Er...”

“We, um...”

“Finish swallowing, Harry dear,” she instructed.

Her purposeful ignoring of their mistakes, treating the events like any other mistake and ignoring the cause, was something they greatly appreciated. It still frustrated them to no end the lengths to which she pushed them as if they weren’t bonded. It was her way of forcing them to think of themselves as different persons. They seemed to find the dichotomy odd that she was supportive of their situation and yet did her best to act as if it wasn’t there.

Either way, each day, their commonplace activities became just a little more natural, a tiny bit more indistinguishable to anyone not aware that something was different about them.

Harry swallowed, and then they both took a second to pick up their silverware and restart their eating pattern. This time, while Harry chewed his food, they made sure Ginny was the speaker. She stopped cutting her sausage so they were only doing two things at a time — one for each of them — instead of three, which was still outside their ability.

“We wanted to fly for a bit,” she started. “But we also know we need to do our homework.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded. “Good, homework first, then flying. I would like you start with Ginny’s homework.”

The pair looked at her in askance, but there was no explanation forthcoming. Shrugging, they once more went back to eating. Their mother watched them for a little longer, the pair deep in joint thought about the possible reasons for specifying Ginny’s homework first, before she began bustling around the kitchen.

Once they were done eating, Harry and Ginny put their dishes in the sink. They were no longer allowed to clean their dishes after several broken plates, though their mother promised that they would be trying again once she was satisfied with their progress. Carefully, they made their way back up the stairs to their room, pulled Ginny’s homework from her trunk and sat at their desks while Ginny looked at her assignments.

_The twelve rules of Transfiguration are?_

There was a joint level of surprise when Ginny discovered she already had the answer, but it was not the level of detail with which she usually remembered facts.

_The properties of wood and metal differ most obviously — how? And in what ways are they the same? How does this effect simple transformative spells?_

_Really? That’s all we can remember?_

_I wasn’t good with facts. I did much better..._

_Doing, yes. But these facts make it easier._

_Do they? I never thought so._

It was an odd realization that their memories of doing the spells were so radically different. Harry did, in fact, just do. Once he understood the spell, it was almost instinctual the way it made sense. There was a confusion in their joint consciousness, obviously from Ginny, at how it just, well, worked. Meanwhile, their memories of Ginny accomplishing a spell involved at least a basic understanding of the concepts and rules that allowed it to work, how they interacted to create the effect the spell required.

And definitely apathy from Harry. He didn’t not care, he simply had no feelings one way or the other about the facts. They just didn’t matter as far as he had been concerned. And yet, there was now a burgeoning fascination at the understanding, as if he always knew what the puzzle looked like, but now could make out the individual pieces and see how they fit together. And the other side of them was likewise amazed at the total picture, the fact that it was a picture with no lines or grooves through it where the pieces met.

_We should probably do some magic._

_See what does and doesn’t work._

_We have to ask Mum, though._

_Bother._

One at a time, they stood from their chairs and together, made their way out of the room. As they stood at the top of the stairs, they sighed. It may have been important to learn how to walk stairs, as demonstrated by their slow improvement — meaning they had lots of room to improve — but they really didn’t feel like doing it yet again. Not this morning. But they were resolute to try, and even had their right feet on the first stair when their mother appeared at the bottom, a stack of folded clothes in her arms, another stack floating behind her.

“What is it, dears? Do you need something?” she asked as she started up the stairs.

“We needed to ask you something. It kind of has something to do with our homework.”

“Sort of...”

“Alright then, just back up to your room and I’ll be there momentarily,” she said, nodding at them. “And speak straight; only one of you, remember?”

“Yes, Mum,” they said together.

As they walked back into their room, their mother had caught up with them and let the floating pile of clothing settle to floor just outside their door. She walked into their room after them and set the pile she was holding onto their bed.

“Now,” she started, sitting next to the clothing on their bed, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Our magic,” they said together.

“We do it differently,” Ginny said.

“Oh?” said Molly, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Please explain.”

“I, er... Harry doesn’t need to know all the things I always did. It just, sort of, makes sense to him. We can’t figure out any other way to explain it. But I couldn’t do that. I needed to know all that stuff the professors go over. It’s like a puzzle, and I need to see all the pieces and how they go together.”

“We... sorry. I never cared about that. Once it made sense, I could do it. The rest was just kind of... I don’t know. Irrelevant, I guess. It just got in the way of me doing the spell.”

To their surprise, their mother actually smiled. “Excellent. I was hoping we would find something like this.”

“Mum?”

“Well, we know that you are, at least on some level, still aware of your individuality. Parts of that are still evident; for example, your interests in clothes and shopping. There is also the awareness and familiarities with your bodies and their balances as demonstrated by your walking, your problems with the stairs, and your broom flying. And you can each remember yourselves as individuals, and all that entailed.

“Each difference we find, each one we can focus on, gives us a real way of identifying how you do things.”

“So... this is a good thing?” they asked, Harry speaking.

“Yes, it very much is. It’s something else you can now pay attention to. Something you can use as, well... as a frame of reference.”

They both nodded.

_But I’d still like to do some magic._

_Determine if we can each do it the other way._

“Mum, is there any way we can perform some magic here at home?”

“Hmmm,” their Mum sighed, thinking. “Well, I could issue a therapeutic waiver as your in-home Healer. But that would lead to questions. Poppy could do it with fewer questions, but I think any questions at this point would be ill-advised.”

“What about a tutor?” they asked.

“Yes. Yes, it isn’t uncommon for students to get a tutor or teacher to work with them. But you would still need a reason, such as low grades or a troubled subject. And as your only low grades in a magical subject were in Potions, that wouldn’t really allow for a Magical waiver.”

“What about medical? I mean... well...” stumbled Harry.

“Nevermind,” picked up Ginny. “That would still leave the medical questions.”

“Not really,” said a smiling Molly. “A medical waiver would need a medical reason. A tuition waiver just needs a valid reason - in this case, ‘medical.’ It’s a matter of record that you were both in the hospital wing. I could get Minerva or Albus to come with a temporary one under the reasoning that they needed to wait a couple weeks to check your magical suitability. It’s not uncommon, and usually happens in class unknown to the student, under a teacher’s supervision, but since there were no classes after your accident,” she ignored their frown. They really didn’t like thinking of it as an accident, but they couldn’t think of another description, at least not one that wouldn’t raise questions in public. “Yes, wait here and I’ll be back shortly. Continue your homework, please.”

She stood and walked quickly out of the room, levitating the clothing in the hallway in front of her. They heard her disappear up the stairs and sat in thought.

_Should we continue this or do the second year homework._

_We don’t know everything we want to about the first year homework._

Picking up a quill, Ginny started writing their essay. They had to look up more information than they would have liked, and there was a growing frustration as to how they could do it without knowing all the facts necessary. But they struggled through, often with Ginny stopping her writing while Harry looked up whatever they couldn’t remember.

They were nearly done two feet of parchment when they were startled from their concentration by a knock on the door frame, and turned to see who was there. Unfortunately, the sudden movement from both of them was disorienting enough that they wobbled where they sat. Ginny managed to hold them upright on the desk, but Harry tumbled out of the chair towards the floor.

They were bracing for the impact that never came when they lost all sensation of falling. Instead, it was replaced with floating, and the next thing they knew, they were both sitting comfortably in their chairs.

“None of that, now,” came the familiar brogue from their Head of House. “I must apologize, I did not mean to startle you.”

“That’s okay, Professor.”

Professor McGonagall slipped her wand away and studied the children in front of her for a moment. “So, your mother says you have found some interesting problems with your homework?”

“No?” asked Harry while Ginny simultaneously asked, “Yes?”

“Well,” chuckled the professor. “That is certainly the most interesting ‘I don’t know’ I’ve heard in a long while.”

“Er...” they said together.

“Let me guess,” she said. “You’ve discovered that Harry was a much more practical magical user, its use coming almost instinctively, while Ginny required the rules that told her how the spell worked.”

The pair stared in surprise at their teacher.

“Oh, come now. I have been teaching since before your parents went to school. There is nothing surprising about either of those methods of learning. It is with some ease that I can determine how my students learn and teach them accordingly.”

“We wish some other professors would teach to their students that way,” Ginny mumbled.

“Indeed,” commented their professor wryly. “Be that as it may, what is it you needed from me?”

“Well, we want to know if we can still do what we could before we knew we didn’t know it.”

“From anyone else, that might be confusing,” said Professor McGonagall. “Very well, pull out your wands.”

They did as requested, Ginny pulling their wands from the trunk next to her chair and handing Harry his.

“Good. Now, let’s start right in.” The Transfiguration teacher flicked her wand and a small, metal disc appeared on the floor. “Mr. Potter, please turn that into a wooden button.”

It was a second year spell, one Ginny had not learned about yet. They knew they could do it, it was a spell he had picked up rather quickly, being that it was so similar to the matchstick to needle exercise from their first year. He performed the wand motion as he knew it and said the spell, and the metal disc became grainy and formed four, tiny holes in the middle. They frowned in confusion.

“You did much better with that in class, Harry.”

“I know...” said Harry as they both looked at the results.

“Ginny, are you trying to figure it out as you do it?” asked the professor.

“I... I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s because you hadn’t learned it yet. But Harry did. Don’t think, just do it.”

_Like flying._

_We had to ignore the_ other _instincts._

Together they nodded and, once Professor McGonagall transfigured the disc back, they had Harry cast the spell again. Now before them was a perfect, wooden button.

“Excellent. So, you can still cast your spells. Now, I want to see Ginny cast the same spell.” With a flick of her wand, a new metal disc lay next to the button.

They didn’t find the task too difficult. Even though it was Ginny’s body, they cast the spell in the same way and the disc became another button.

Then they both grunted an ‘argh’ in frustration.

“What’s the matter? This is O grade work.”

“We still don’t know _why_ it works. It’s just so confusing.”

Their teacher contemplated them for a couple moments before responding. “I told you what type of students you were before, so it shouldn’t surprise you too much to know I would now teach you differently.”

When Harry and Ginny looked at her curiously, she elaborated. “Another very common type of learning is the student who can apply knowledge, like Harry, relatively quickly, but then does what he or she can to learn about why it works the way it does, much like Miss Weasley. These students, in general, do not learn spells nearly as quickly as Harry does, nor do they ever understand a spell as much as Ginny — it is simply not necessary for them. They only need the concepts behind it, not the full understanding. But they have a near endless supply of spells as they can take their knowledge and fairly quickly apply it towards a new goal.”

“Kind of like Hermione?” they asked.

“Somewhat. Your friend is actually more like Harry than she would care to admit. She could do these spells right away if she would just let herself. Instead, she is convinced that she needs to understand a spell inside and out before she can perform it.”

“But, she’s almost always the first to get the spells in class.”

“She is. And she also spends all her time outside of class reading up on them, does she not?” replied the professor.

“So... we...”

“We’re not going to learn as quickly as I did before?”

“Or understand it as well as I did?”

Ignoring the fact that the question was phrased each time from the wrong student, she responded, “Quite the opposite, in fact. I have a feeling that you will be among the best, and most well rounded students in the school. Professor Flitwick will be quite jealous of my House, I would imagine,” she said with a serene smile. She then continued. “You will still learn like Harry, but you will need to understand like Ginny. As a result, I expect you will have a creativity to your magic to rival even the Headmaster’s. I quite look forward to it.”

The pair looked at the buttons on the ground. Having Harry perform a spell they both knew quite well, they made a _swish_ and _flick_ with his wand, and pronounced ‘ _Wingardium Leviosa._ ’ As expected, one of the buttons rose from the ground. Ginny had a full understanding of the concepts behind the spell, and after some thought, they saw how the source of the magical effect on the button might be different. It was something Ginny, though she saw the concepts, would not have been able to apply without learning more about it. Harry however...

They held out Ginny’s hand and the floating button shot towards it.

“The Summoning Charm is pronounced ‘ _Accio,_ ’ and is, in fact, not taught until later.”

“Why? It seems so related.”

“The underlying principles are similar, but the actual rules behind the spells are somewhat different. We don’t teach it at the same time so as not to confuse you with the similarities. For most students, it would only inhibit them. What you’ve done here is exactly what I’ve told you about. By using Ginny’s full understanding, and Harry’s instincts, you have understood and performed a spell you would otherwise not be ready for.

“What I would recommend is that you go over Harry’s second year books. Try and understand _why_ things work for Ginny’s sensibilities. I relieve you of both your Transfiguration assignments so that you can apply yourselves towards this. I will also see what I can do with your other professors in allowing you more time for it, though don’t expect too much from Potions. I will let you know what comes from our discussions.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

“You are more than welcome. I truly look forward to teaching you,” she said, smiling at them. They noticed she had been doing that a fair amount around them and wondered if it would continue in school.

_Probably not._

_She must be Professor McGonagall in school._

_Even towards us._

“Now, if I might ask,” she interrupted their thoughts. “Why did your mother contact me instead of you?”

“We haven’t told her about the mirrors.”

“We don’t really want anyone to know.”

“Understandable. Just don’t forget them. If you need anything — anything at all — just call,” Professor McGonagall said. “Very well. Do some more reading while you are thinking about it, and I shall let your mother know what we’ve discussed. It is something she should know.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

The venerable Transfiguration Mistress left them in their room and went down the stairs.

They pulled out Harry’s second year Charms book, since they were already working on the Levitating and Summoning Charms, and began going through it. They applied the concepts they knew from Ginny’s first year to Harry’s memories of doing the spells and began to build some interesting understandings about the charms they had learned. Unfortunately, without their teacher there, they couldn’t test their new revelations, but it was something they would keep in mind.

Once again, they were so lost in their work that they didn’t hear someone arrive in their room until their mother spoke up. “Okay, dears. I think that’s enough for now.”

Learning from the last time, they didn’t both turn at once. Instead, Harry closed his eyes while Ginny turned. “Mum?”

“You’ve been up here for three hours. I admire the diligence — something that seems to have skipped several of your brothers — but you should go outside and relax.”

_She never says, ‘Go play.’_

_Not this early in the morning._

_Not when there’s still work to be done._

Harry turned around and they continued to stare at her.

“Is something wrong, dears?” she asked.

“Well, since we got home, other then a couple days of rest, you’ve not passed a chance by for us to work at something.”

“And you never send us out to play before lunch if there....”

“Okay. Okay,” she said, smiling, cutting them off. “After talking to Minerva, I decided that first, you could use a break, and second, I think flying the brooms will be good for you. Remember, I want you to do activities that help you focus on your differences, and flying your broom does that.”

“So, flying...?”

“Yes. I will consider it part of your working at this. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Thanks, Mum!” they yelled together, first Ginny and then Harry jumping up to hug her.

They made their way to the stairs, and, after hearing their mother clear her throat, they made their way down together. Apparently, flying was not a replacement for the rest of their exercises.

Several minutes later found them at the shed, pulling out their Nimbus. With it in Harry’s hand, they made their way leisurely, hand in hand, to the paddock. 

Harry went first, as he already had the broom, and they swooped through the sky, dove at the ground, and performed loops at a speed that Ginny never had. They were exhilarated at the feel of the wind in their hair. The weightlessness that came with an extreme dive, one that left Harry’s toes skimming the grass. And after pulling up, the thrill of gravity pulling at them while flying straight up, they pulled another tight loop, rolling as they came out of it, and then a rustling noise surprised them.

On the ground, Ginny was by a tree on the far side of the paddock. It was a position from which, were her eyes open, they could see anyone approach from the Burrow. With her eyes closed, Harry would still be able to see them long before she could hear them. And as there was nothing in the sky with them, a rustling noise could only be by Ginny; away from the house.

There was a brief instant of fear that collided with a need to know who was there. No one from the family would ever sneak up on them — not in this situation. Harry turned to look, but Ginny’s were closer, faster. They opened her eyes and were suddenly dizzy as the broom spun out of control while a sharp faced woman, her rigid, blond curls framed her black, angular glasses, wavered in their vision. The sky and trees spun around them and they cried out.

The woman seemed not to care as she started talking at them. The ground approaching was definitely of greater concern for them than the woman who simply kept talking. Or, at least, her mouth was moving. It was hard to hear her over their screams.

They were trying their best to hold onto the broomstick, but they could no longer even tell what way was up. And then the ground was close enough to see the blades of grass. They braced for the fall, the woman’s voice gaining in volume as she talked over the screaming, a crack sounding causing them a moment’s irrational concern that broom broke, and then they weren’t falling anymore.

Green grass was in front of them and the woman was yanked away from them, her nattering cut off with a shriek, ending with a thud as she hit a tree, and a short brushing noise when the broom — _When did we let go? Does that mean it’s not broken?_ — hit the grass.

“You is a bad witch!” came a very familiar voice in the sudden silence of everything.

Very carefully, they closed Harry’s eyes and took deep breaths. When everything stopped spinning, Ginny sat up and they saw Dobby standing in the grass with his legs spread and his arms flung out. One was pointed toward Harry, the other at the woman stuck to the tree, at whom he was glaring furiously. Ginny had never been afraid of a house elf before, and now they truly hoped they would never have reason to ever go against one.

“Who... Who are you?” Ginny asked of the woman.

They were interrupted when their parents came running with their wands out, along with Ron trailing behind, wandless. Their parents took in the scene quickly, and then split without breaking stride. Their dad went over to the woman while their mother came over to Harry.

“Please put him down now, Dobby,” she asked, not even looking at the diminutive elf. They felt themselves laid on the ground gently while their mother began mumbling and swishing her wand.

“We’re... I’m fine, Mum,” Harry said. “We were just... scared.”

“Hmmm,” she commented, performing a couple more flicks, before standing and helping Harry upright as well. “So it would seem. Ron, please go back and call the Aurors.”

They walked to Ginny and helped her upright as well, allowing Harry and Ginny the chance to touch once more. The three of them then approached Mr. Weasley, who was standing in front of the still tree bound woman, his wand steady.

“Rita Skeeter,” he said, sounding for all to hear as if he were greeting her genially in the hallways of the Ministry.

“Arthur Weasley. Have your elf release me or I will be pressing charges,” hissed the woman who Harry and Ginny now knew to be called Rita.

“Elf? We don’t own an elf.”

“That one, right there!” she yelled.

“He’s not ours, just a family friend.”

“Friend? With an elf? Not likely. How could you afford one? With your new charge’s money?”

“Oh, certainly not. I don’t think we would ever buy an elf. But our friends are always welcome here. You, on the other hand, are not a friend, so what are you doing here?”

“It should be obvious. The world has a right to know why Harry Potter is living with you. I was just asking the girl questions.”

“Without parental permission? Or even her own permission? I don’t think even you could claim to not know she was underage.”

“The world has-”

“A right to know. Yes, there is not an employee of the Ministry who doesn’t know your mantra, Rita. But your rights as a journalist do not supersede the rights of a minor. And Harry, despite your most fervent wishes, is still a minor. You can’t just report on him willy nilly.”

“Posh. People have been publishing about him for years.”

“Not within the last seven, as you well know. They were all praying he wouldn’t show up before school and the statute would run out, which it unfortunately did. You, however, would not be covered by that today.”

Rita began to struggle against the elf magic that held her bound, and there were _cracks_ nearby. Harry and Ginny looked around and saw a tall, bald, black man and a shorter, burly, white man just outside the Burrow property proper.

“Over here, Kingsley,” called their father.

As the new pair got closer, they recognized the black uniform robes of the Aurors, the same robes the men wore who took away Hagrid.

“Well, well, King. What do we have here? A rabid reporter, possibly?” asked the shorter man.

“Looks like, John,” said the black man in a deep, basso whom they assumed was Kingsley — his partner called him King, after all. Kingsley then addressed their father. “So, what seems to be the problem here? Your son seemed rather worried when he called us.”

“We were just getting to that ourselves. We came out to find Dobby over there holding Harry here off the ground. It appears he was falling off his broom. Our daughter was a bit scared, and Dobby had this... woman bound to this tree.”

“Following you so far,” said Kingsley. “Anything else?”

“It seems Rita is under the impression that she has a right to trespass onto our property — of which, we’re still not sure how she got passed the protective charms — and question our underage daughter without permission, all because the world has a right to know about Harry Potter. That’s about as far as we’ve gotten.”

“I see,” he said, slowly, then turned back to Rita. “So, Rita. What’s your side of this story?”

“I’ve no idea what Arthur is talking about. I came here with no problems, which means this is not his property, or his charms are not working as he thinks. Either way, I had no way of knowing this was actually their property. And it is not illegal to ask a question of anyone. Now order that elf to release me!”

“No,” said Kingsley, turning briefly to wink at Harry and Ginny, and apparently Dobby who had made his way over and was standing next to Harry, his arm still outstretched.

“Excuse me?!” the woman shrieked.

“I said ‘no.’ I don’t see why I should trouble myself to keep you here while we sort this out when the elf seems to be doing a reasonable job.”

“Besides,” said the other Auror, _John_ they remembered, “The charms are functioning, and this is clearly land covered by them, which was why we Apparated where we did. That makes it Trespassing. And seeing as you are here, you must have done something to bypass the Charms, which is Magical Mischief at the least. You’re right that asking a question is not illegal, but questioning a minor without permission with intent to publish most certainly is.”

“Shall we try this again? What are you doing here, Rita?” asked Kingsley, his basso rumble no longer friendly, and quite intimidating.

“I want my solicitor,” was all Rita would say.

“Very well. If you could have your elf release her, please?”

“As I was telling Rita, Dobby is not my elf. He is a friend to Harry, and therefore, always welcome here.”

“I see. Dobby, would you please release Rita?”

The elf looked quickly back and forth between the blonde and the Auror, before looking at Harry and Ginny. They nodded, which caused Dobby to nod in agreement to Kingsley, and then lower his arm — rather forcefully. Rita didn’t so much fall to ground as she was thrown with a whoosh of breath.

Quickly following, Kingsley waved his wand and the reporter was standing upright, her arms bound tightly behind her back.

“We’re probably going to need to question the children,” John said their parents. “But I’d rather not have to drag Harry Potter through the Ministry with Rita bound up beside him. It could cause... complications. How about we come back later tonight, or tomorrow. You would need to be there, of course, and it would give the kids a chance to calm down.”

“Thank you,” said their mother. “Either of those would be fine. Just please call us first to make sure we can accommodate you.”

Kingsley looked at Harry and Ginny and smiled at them. He wasn’t nearly as scary when smiling. “That’s perfectly understandable, Molly. We will be calling on you later, then.”

The Aurors, flanking Rita, and each with an arm on her, walked her back off the property, and, with a very loud _crack_ , all three were gone.

“Dobby?” their mother addressed the elf, kneeling down to his level. “Thank you so much. We’re going back to the Burrow, now. Would you like to join us?”

“Dobby... Dobby can join you?” he asked in amazement.

“Of course, Dobby. We meant what we said. You are a friend of Harry’s right?”

“Dobby most definitely is thinking his self friends with Harry Ginny Wheezy Potter.”

“Then you are always welcome here. Come with us, at least for now. Unless you are needed back at Hogwarts?”

“Other elveses can do without help. Dumblydoor says Dobby should break once in a while.”

Harry and Ginny giggled. “I think he meant ‘Take a break,’ Dobby.”

“Yes!” he nodded vigorously. “That was it. Dobby will come!”

The family and elf headed back to the house, meeting up with Ron on the way who had been standing, watching from the other side of the paddock. It had been an interesting morning, and it wasn’t even lunch yet.


End file.
